Calling on Saint Christopher
by VoicesOffCamera
Summary: When a Greaser goes missing, everyone just assumes he's another lost cause, yet another troubled teen from the wrong side of town who ran away from home to join a gang and knock over liquor stores. His friends and family knew better though. Now they must race against the clock to find him before it's too late.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone! I'm back! I do apologize for the onslaught of Harry Potter fanfictions lately that may have been blowing up some of your emails if you get notifications from me (I'm in a competition, hence the rapid fire chapters on one of those stories lately). So to make it up to my faithful Outsiders fans, I give you a brand new story! This one won't be too long, maybe ten chapters tops, I'm just easing into some new Outsiders material. But I hope you like it!

* * *

 _ **Calling on Saint Christopher**_

 **Chapter One**

* * *

 _Oh my God, this hurts like hell_  
 _I had that dream again where_  
 _I was lost for good in outer space_  
 _Tell me, doctor, how to shake_  
 _A waking nightmare that is only_  
 _Worse when I am sleeping_

 _(Jack's Mannequin - Kill the Messenger)_

* * *

Darry had always enjoyed early mornings. He liked the quiet, peaceful feeling the neighborhood had before everyone started to wake up and get ready for the day. He and his dad used to be the first ones up in the mornings, as they were the only two in the family that were considered "morning people." These days, the mornings were a solitary time for Darry though. It had been hard, at first, to be the only one awake during this time that he used to share with his father. But, he had learned to appreciate the quiet in what had become such a hectic time in his and the brothers' lives.

That day, as Darry made his coffee and moved around the kitchen, he was unaware that anything was wrong. It seemed like just any other morning. He sipped on his coffee as he made his way through the living room, eyeing the empty couch. He knew that Steve and Soda had gone out last night; usually Steve would come back and crash on their couch when they were out late. It was a little odd that he hadn't, but it certainly was not unheard of. Darry was quickly able to shrug off any ideas that this was all that unusual.

He headed out to the front porch to retrieve the paper. It was a cool morning, but not overly cold as spring was finally upon them. The sun was just starting to come up over the neighborhood and the sky was clear. Darry leaned down and picked up the paper. He started to turn to head back in to the house, but then froze as something caught his eye. Or rather the lack of something. The driveway was empty.

"You've got to be kidding me," Darry muttered to himself with a sigh of frustration.

He had let Soda and Steve borrow the truck last night, since Steve's car had stalled the other day and they hadn't gotten a chance to fix it yet. He knew that Soda wasn't working today and he didn't have a curfew or anything, but still not being home at six in the morning was a bit excessive, especially since Darry needed the truck to get to work in an hour.

"I'm gonna kill those two," he muttered to himself as he turned and headed back into the house. It wasn't the first time either of them had stayed out all night, but Darry didn't like them doing that with his truck when he needed to use it in the morning. He thought Soda was more responsible than that.

Darry headed back into the kitchen and settled himself at the kitchen table with the paper. He knew that there was no use calling Steve's house. There's no way they would have stayed there and all that would do is piss off Steve's father. All he could do was wait and hope that they turned up before he had to go to work and that the truck wasn't in too bad of shape after their night of partying.

Time passed and everything remained quiet. Darry eventually started on breakfast and soon enough it was time to wake up Pony for school. There had still been no sign of Soda or Steve or his truck. Darry was starting to get frustrated. If he was late for work because of them then he swore he was going to knock their heads together.

Darry headed into Soda and Pony's bedroom. Pony was curled up on his side of the bed, but one hand was reaching out toward Soda's empty side of the bed, as if he were reaching for his brother that wasn't there.

"Pony," Darry said quietly, reaching over and shaking his youngest brother's shoulder. "Pony, time to get up." Pony groaned and tried to burrow deeper under the covers. Darry smiled lightly as he pulled the covers down farther. "C'mon, Pony, you don't wanna be late for school."

Pony mumbled incoherently, but managed to push himself up into a sitting position and then yawned loudly. He glanced over to the empty side of the bed. "Where's Soda?" he said, his voice still thick with sleep.

"He ain't home yet," Darry sighed.

"He stayed out all night?" Pony asked.

"Yeah," Darry confirmed.

"You'd kill me if _I_ was out all night," Pony grumbled.

"Don't you worry, Soda's gonna get a serious talkin' to when he gets home," Darry promised. "Now c'mon, get goin'. Breakfast's almost ready."

Pony sighed as he slowly dragged himself out of bed and headed out into the hallway. Darry headed back into the kitchen to finish up breakfast. By the time Pony had showered and dressed, Darry had breakfast on the table.

"Soda's still not home?" Pony asked as he slid into his chair.

"No," Darry said an edge to his voice. "And he's got my truck and I gotta leave for work in twenty minutes."

"That's not like Soda," Pony pointed out.

Before he could answer, Darry heard a car door slam outside. He sighed with relief. "Bet that's them." He pushed his chair back from the table and headed out into the living room, fully prepared to start yelling at his thickheaded little brother. As he walked out into the living room, Steve was just coming through the front door. He was stumbling a bit and Darry couldn't really tell if he was hungover or still drunk. "Where the _hell_ have you guys been?" Darry demanded loudly.

However, he was slowly beginning to realize that something was wrong. As Steve stumbled over to the couch, Darry looked back over at the door expectantly. But the second half of the duo didn't immediately appear.

"Keep it down," Steve mumbled as he fell onto the couch. He squinted up at Darry. "Where's Soda? I think I left my keys in the truck, I can't get in to my house."

Darry stared at him for a long minute. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as the reality of the situation was finally starting to dawn on him. "Steve… Soda ain't here," he said slowly.

"Whaddaya mean he ain't here?" Steve slurred confused. "Where is he?"

"I thought he was with you," Darry said. All his anger toward his brother instantly melted away and was replaced with concern. Something was clearly very wrong here.

As Steve looked up at Darry, he seemed to be sobering up right before his eyes as he realized the seriousness of the situation. "He was. But he left early last night. Said he wasn't feelin' great and headed out with the truck."

"When did he leave?" Darry questioned, staring at Steve hard.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. "I dunno, man…"

"Think!" Darry commanded.

Steve jumped. "Jeez, you don't have to yell. It was before midnight. Maybe around eleven?" He glanced around the room as if he thought he'd spot Soda hiding somewhere. "He really didn't come home last night?"

"He really didn't," Darry said tensely. "Did you see the truck when you walked in just now?"

"Can't say I noticed," Steve admitted.

"Where were you two last night?" Darry questioned. He needed to get as much information as possible in order to figure out where they should go from here.

"We drove out to a drag race outside of town," Steve told him. "Just like we've done I dunno how many times."

"How did you get here if he took the truck?" Darry asked.

"I hitched a ride," Steve said. "I told him I didn't mind leavin' early with him, but he said that I should stay."

Darry ran a hand over his face. His mind was racing and he was finding it hard to concentrate on any one thing. He tried his best to focus. "Okay, so when he left last night, he said he wasn't feelin' great? Was he sick?"

"He didn't seem sick," Steve said. "He just seemed worn out and tired. He did work a double yesterday after all."

"Had he been drinkin'?" Darry asked.

Steve cocked an eyebrow at that. "Of course he hadn't. He never drinks."

"Did you actually see him get in the truck and leave?" Darry persisted.

"No," Steve said slowly, sounding a bit guilty. He went on quickly. "But when we left most of the cars were cleared out. I didn't see the truck."

"Yeah, you also didn't notice it wasn't there when you were walkin' up the damn driveway," Darry snapped.

Steve glared at him. "Hey, this ain't my fault!" he shot back. "He probably just had car trouble on the way home."

"You two are supposed to look out for each other when you go out," Darry said angrily.

"Hey, you know I always have his back!" Steve said loudly. "He said he wanted to go home and he didn't want me to go with him, what the hell else was I supposed to do?"

Darry sighed loudly in frustration.

"So… where is he?" Darry turned at the sound of Pony's voice. His youngest brother was standing in the doorway from the kitchen. By the look on his face it was clear that he had heard what was going on.

"We don't know," Darry said flatly.

"He said he was goin' home," Steve insisted. "Why would he go anywhere else? I bet you anythin' he just had car problems and got stuck somewhere."

"Well clearly _somethin'_ went wrong, because he's definitely not here," Darry pointed out. He took a deep breath. They needed to take action. "Okay, your car won't run, right?" Steve shook his head. "We need to get a car. Run over to Two-Bit's house and drag him out of bed. Get his car and get back over here. Make Two-Bit drive too; you're in no shape to be drivin'."

Steve was up and out the door in a matter of seconds. As the door slammed behind him, Darry made his way over to the phone that sat on the side table next to his recliner.

"Who're you callin'?" Pony asked tentatively as Darry picked up the receiver.

"The hospital," Darry said dully. He didn't like the thought but he knew through painful experience that it had to be dealt with before they started driving around aimlessly.

"You… you think he's hurt?" Pony asked.

"Well somethin' sure as hell ain't right," Darry said. He glanced over at Pony and saw how much that statement scared him, instantly regretting how blunt he had been. He made an effort to soften his tone as he spoke again. "Don't panic yet, Pony," he tried to assure him, even though his own panic was barely contained. "We just need to take this one step at a time."

Darry had to describe his brother to three different nurses before they were able to definitively tell him that no one matching that description had been admitted to the hospital since eleven o'clock last night. It was only a small relief though as he hung up the phone and told this to Pony. They still had no idea where Soda was. And the really troubling part of the whole thing was that only six months before Pony had run away with Johnny to Windrixville. Soda knew full well what that had done to their family. He'd never willingly put his brothers through something like that. If it were at all possible to call them and tell them what happened he would have done it. That made this whole situation that much more foreboding.

Darry picked up the phone and called in to work next. There was no way he was going to work while his brother was missing. Luckily his boss was understanding about the situation. As he hung up, Darry could only hope there was some simple answer as to why Soda never made it home last night.

Darry heard a car pulling up outside. He quickly grabbed his jacket and slid on his shoes that sat by the door. He was anxious to get going. So anxious that it took him until he got to the steps of the porch to realize that Pony was right behind him.

"Pony…" Darry started as he paused at the bottom of the steps.

"You _can't_ make me go to school today, Darry," Pony jumped in, already knowing what Darry was going to say. "Not with Soda missin' and everythin'."

"I wouldn't say he's missin'," Darry hedged uncomfortably.

"Then what would you say?" Pony demanded, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at him defiantly.

Darry paused, trying to think of a less negative way to portray the situation. He came up with nothing. He sighed in defeat. "Alright, you can come."

Pony looked relieved as he followed him down the walk to where Two-Bit's car was waiting for them on the curb. Without a word, Darry opened the passenger side door and made eye contact with Steve, jerking his head toward the backseat. Steve sighed, but didn't put up his usual fight as he climbed out of the car and moved to sit in the back with Pony. Darry slid into the front seat next to Two-Bit.

"You okay to drive?" Darry asked as he studied Two-Bit critically. It was early in the morning, especially for the likes of Two-Bit, but even so, Darry was surprised at how awake Two-Bit seemed.

"Sure," Two-Bit said easily with a grin, despite the situation. "I haven't been to bed yet."

Darry raised an eyebrow at that. "You been drinkin'?" he asked.

Two-Bit shook his head. "Not for hours. I was consumed by an intense game of poker over at Buck's. Steve caught me just as I was gettin' home." He shifted the car into drive. "So, let's go find our wayward Greaser, shall we?"

Despite Two-Bit's laid-back attitude, Darry felt tense as they took off, following Steve's instructions from the back seat to get back to where the drag races had been the night before. He couldn't help but fear for the worst. It was practically hardwired into his brain at this point. It had only been a year ago when their parents hadn't come home one night.

Darry took a deep breath, trying to pull himself together. He was getting ahead of himself. There had to be a less devastating explanation for why his little brother never came home last night. There just had to be. Their lives just couldn't possibly handle any more loss.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** First off: thank you so much for all your reviews! You've all successfully reminded why this is my favorite fandom to write for. You guys are awesome!

 **IMPORTANT NOTE PLEASE READ:** _**I am going to be changing the title of this story!**_ So I always struggle with titles. When I posted the first chapter of this, I didn't feel great about the title, but I decided to just go with it. Well, since then I've come across a song that gave me a much better title for this story that better encompasses the themes that I'm going to cover. So this story is now going to be titled **Calling On Saint Christopher**. I'll probably officially be changing it sometime tomorrow; I don't want it to affect any notifications until after everyone has a chance to see this note.

Okay so without further ado let us continue!

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

 _Calling on St. Christopher  
Gonna need some help tonight  
For the long, dark road ahead  
On my way back to the light_

 _'Cause the path is so unclear_  
 _And I'm not sure who to be_  
 _All I know is I can't stay here_  
 _Won't you please watch over me?_

 _[Michael Logen – St. Christopher (On My Way)]_

* * *

Darry had insisted that Steve show them the exact route that Soda would have taken home from the where the drag races had been. As they drove, he couldn't help but scan the sides of the road, looking for any signs of an accident. It was a natural – albeit painful – conclusion for his mind to jump to. There was a strange mixture of relief and frustration as he saw no signs of any such thing. He also carefully scrutinized any gas stations or strip malls they passed, constantly searching for the familiar truck. A few times he thought he had spotted it, but as Two-Bit slowed the car he found that each time it hadn't been the right green truck. As logical explanations began to be eliminated it left worry and confusion in its wake. Where in the world could Soda possibly be?

They took a very familiar path to the outside of town. Before they got there, Darry had already figured out where they were going. It was a popular spot for drag races; he himself had been to a few here when he was younger. It was a long, straight stretch of road that wasn't well traveled on the best of days. At night it was practically abandoned, making it an ideal spot for drag races that weren't strictly speaking legal. It was also isolated, with no houses or businesses around for miles.

Steve instructed Two-Bit where he should pull off to the side of the road. The grass here was torn up with tire tracks; obviously this had been the spot where all the spectators had parked their cars. Before Two-Bit had turned the car off, Darry was already pushing his door open and climbing out. His eyes carefully took in his surroundings. The area was virtually deserted, without a soul in sight. Even so, Darry couldn't help but take in every detail of the area, as if there would be some clue that would pop up and tell him where his brother had disappeared. Of course, this was only wishful thinking.

"I told you he wouldn't be here," Steve pointed out as he climbed out of the car and came to stand beside Darry. "It was already pretty cleared out by the time I was leaving just a few hours ago."

"There's no reason for him to hang out here anyway," came Two-Bit's voice. Darry glanced back at him. He had opened his door and stepped halfway out, resting one arm on the hood of the car as looked across it at them. "If he did have car trouble he'd have gone to a gas station."

"How was the truck runnin' last night?" Darry asked, looking over at Steve.

Steve shrugged. "A bit rough, as usual. I've been meanin' to take a look at it for a while."

"So it's possible that after he drove outta here fine, the truck coulda broken down somewhere else?" Darry questioned. "Bad enough that Soda couldn't have fixed it?" Admittedly, he didn't know a whole lot about cars. But to him, it seemed odd that after driving all the way out here, Soda could have gotten in the truck and driven partway home only to get stuck somewhere. It seemed even more odd that even if he had broken down, Sodapop – the mechanic of the family – wouldn't have been able to rig it to at least be able to get him home. It wouldn't have been the first time something like that happened. It would just be the first time that Soda wouldn't have been able to make it home anyway. At one point or another, they had all witnessed how resourceful Soda could be when it came to fixing up cars. But then again, this was not his area of expertise.

Steve was quiet for a minute, clearly analyzing the possibilities in a way only a fellow mechanic could. Finally he nodded. "Any number of issues coulda caused it to stall when he was idlin' at a red light or somethin'. Several of them Soda wouldn't have been able to fix himself. Not without tools or replacement parts at least."

This didn't make Darry feel much better though. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked around at the empty area anxiously. "What I don't get is, if he did just have car problems, why didn't he call?"

Steve shrugged. "Maybe he did and you two just slept through it."

Darry had a hard time believing that, knowing full well that he tended to be a pretty light sleeper. But he couldn't definitively say that it was completely outside the realm of possibility. He knew they all wanted to believe the answer was that simple anyway.

"Maybe he couldn't find a gas station that was still open last night," Two-Bit spoke up. "He might not have been able to get ahold of a phone either that late at night. Maybe he just got in to a gas station this mornin'."

This made a bit more sense. This would have happened close to midnight after all, most gas stations would be closed at that time of night. It was strange that the sound logic was coming from Two-Bit of all people though. Even so, Darry felt the tension in his muscles relax a fraction. It was comforting to be able to come up simple explanations for this mess.

Then, Ponyboy had to speak up from where he was standing beside Two-Bit, shattering that illusion. "But how many hours ago was that?" he asked. "He coulda walked and still been back hours ago."

There was an awkward silence as the other three tried to come up with a theory to explain that.

"Tell me again," Darry said, shifting his attention back to Steve. "Why did he say he wanted to leave early last night?"

"He said he wasn't feelin' great," Steve reminded him. "He looked beat from workin' the double shift, I think it was just that he was tired." He paused. "Maybe he didn't feel up to walkin' home and just slept in the truck for the night until he could get to a gas station."

It was far from a flawless theory – they all knew they were grasping at straws at this point – but it was still plausible.

"So what now?" Pony asked after another pause, looking to Darry to provide all the answers.

Darry sighed, rubbing the back of his head as he thought that over. "We drive back home the same way he most likely woulda gone," he finally said, trying to speak with conviction, as if he weren't just making this up as they went along. "We'll stop and check any gas stations on the way. If we don't find him, someone's gonna have to stay at home with the phone in case he calls and the rest of us can go searchin' some other routes he coulda taken. Maybe there was an accident or somethin' and he had to detour."

It sounded like a solid enough plan. It sounded like he knew what he was talking about and was taking charge of the situation. But, as they all climbed back into the car, Darry couldn't help but feel like he was ill equipped mentally and emotionally to deal with this. Pony running away several months ago had terrified him. Losing track of his other brother – admittedly the only that was supposed to be easier to take care of at seventeen years old – felt even worse. He hadn't even known that was possible.

His most important job was to take care of his little brothers. He couldn't help but feel like he had failed again.

Despite all of that, Darry did his best to keep calm as they retraced the route they had just taken. They still had a logical – even if it was somewhat unlikely – explanation that wouldn't devastate them that they could hold on to. There was still a chance that this would turn out to just be a bad morning and not something worse.

However with every gas station they stopped at, Darry felt tension working it's way back into him. There was no sign of the familiar green truck. Even so, they still stopped and went in to each gas station to talk with the workers to see if any of them would recognize either Soda's description or the description of the truck. None of them did. In fact, none of them had any new customers at all that early in the morning, most of them having just opened up within the last hour.

Their "logical" explanation was growing weaker by the minute.

As they pulled back up in front of the Curtis house, everyone was visibly more uptight than they had been when they had left over an hour ago. They were quiet as they all piled out of the car and headed back up the walk toward the house.

"Soda?" Darry called as he led the way back in through the front door. Even though the truck was still nowhere to be seen, he still couldn't help but hope that Soda had somehow made his own way home while they had been out.

Only silence answered him.

"Somethin's wrong," Pony said quietly. He looked up at Darry, pain and fear in his eyes. "Something's really wrong. Soda wouldn't do this to us."

Darry agreed wholeheartedly with that, especially given how he had watched Soda break down every night while Ponyboy had been missing. But he just couldn't admit that out loud just yet. He had to keep it together, at least on the outside, or he felt like everything would fall apart.

"Two-Bit, you and Pony stay here," he said, getting back down to business. He couldn't acknowledge Pony's comments right now; he had to stay in control of this situation. "Steve and I'll head back out and check out some different routes between here and where the drag races were. There may have been an accident or somethin' that he had to go around."

"But Darry…" Pony started.

Darry silenced him with a look. "Please, Pony," he said evenly. "We have to take this one step at a time, and this is the next step."

"We'll hold down the fort," Two-Bit said, visibly straining to keep his voice light. Even he was starting to see the seriousness of the situation. He handed over his car keys to Darry. "Don't forget to check out the DX too. He mighta headed for a place he could fix the truck for free."

"The DX woulda been too far," Steve pointed out.

"Not if he got detoured early on and headed up Sycamore and around the long way to Broadway," Two-Bit argued.

"We're gonna check everywhere, no matter how unlikely," Darry said determinedly. He turned and almost walked out, had he not caught Pony's gaze. He paused before he turned to his youngest brother, placing a hand on his shoulder and meeting his look with what he hoped to be a reassuring look of his own. "It's gonna be okay, Pony," he said gently. "We're gonna find him. You'll see."

Pony nodded silently. Then Darry took a deep breath before he turned and walked out the door, Steve close behind him.

As they headed down the walk, Steve was lighting up a cigarette. "You shouldn't lie to him," he said, his tone bitter with anger boiling just below the surface. Despite the fact that he had seemed so confident that a simple break down had caused Soda's disappearance, his tone now betrayed his doubts. "You know better than most that things don't always turn out okay."

"I didn't lie to him," Darry insisted flatly. "We _will_ find him, no matter the circumstances."

He swallowed at the implication of his own statement. They would find Soda. Darry had made no promises of what kind of condition that they would find his brother in though. That was painful to even think about, but it was the truth of the situation. He had always been a realist, no matter how much that hurt sometimes. He couldn't help it though. Life had already taught him the hard way that Steve was right. Things didn't always turn out okay. Especially for Greasers.

Not finding Soda wasn't an option. That was without question. They wouldn't stop until they found him. There was just no guarantee that what they found wouldn't destroy them all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Thank you for your patience everyone! I'm working on trying to be quicker with my updates, but things have been crazy lately. I also apologize that I didn't get around to responding to reviews this go around, but know that I greatly appreciate them! You guys are the best! Please continue to leave your thoughts and I will continue to try and not leave you guys hanging for too long!

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

Darry and Steve drove around for hours. They took every possible route from the house to where the drag races had been and back, no matter how unlikely it seemed. After all of those routes were exhausted, they then started driving around the neighborhood, checking all Soda's usual hangouts and asking anyone they could find if they had seen him since the night before. No one had.

As they became desperate, their search took them to more and more unlikely places. They canvased from the worst parts of the Greasers' territories all the way to the best parts of the Soc's territory. They even stopped at Buck's roadhouse. It was pretty deserted, but Darry pounded on Buck's door until he roused the Greaser in order to question him. Buck was pissed at first and even tried to take a swing at Darry, though he failed miserably in his hungover state. Finally, they were able to get a coherent response from him, confirming that he hadn't seen Soda around at all.

Disheartened and frustrated, Darry and Steve reluctantly drove back to the Curtis house, honestly at a loss of where else they could look. They had covered most of Tulsa in the past few hours and there had been no sign of Sodapop or the truck. It was well into the afternoon at this point. Darry couldn't help but hope that perhaps Soda had finally shown up at home while they had been gone. Hope was hard to hold onto at this point though. As they pulled back up in front of the house and didn't see the truck, Darry already knew what they would find inside.

"Did you find him?" Pony asked immediately as they walked in.

"Does it look like we found him?" Steve snapped moodily.

"I take it you haven't heard anythin'?" Darry sighed, already knowing the answer.

Pony shook his head, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Darry… what're we gonna do?"

Darry ran a hand over his tired face. "I…" he hedged, not at all sure what he was going to say. They had already looked all over town. What else could they do? Deep down he knew the answer though. He just wasn't ready to admit it out loud just yet. Instead he walked forward and found himself falling into his recliner, his legs suddenly seeming unable to hold him up any longer.

"Darry?" Pony said unsurely.

"Just give me a minute, Pony," Darry murmured, resting his face in his hands.

In the year he had had custody of his two younger brothers, he had never once regretted his decision to give up school in order to keep what was left of their family together. He had always strongly believed that not only was it the right thing to do, but it was also something that he needed to do. Because he knew full well that as much as Soda and Pony needed him, he needed them as well. However, one thing that was able to make him question that choice even for just a moment, was the decisions he was forced to make. It didn't seem to get any easier the more tough decisions he had to make for his brothers.

He looked up to find that the others were looking at him uncertainly. He almost wished that one of the others would speak up and make this suggestion before he had to. He knew none of them would though. The weight was on his shoulders, and his alone. He knew that was the way it was supposed to be though.

"I can go out and look some more," Steve spoke up, clearly unable to handle the silence any longer. He was as bad as Soda in that way. Neither of them liked silence or could sit still for very long.

Darry nodded, even though he knew that it wouldn't do any good. They had already covered most of the town, they had run out of places to look, which is why they had come back here. He could understand the need to be out doing something though. He knew he needed to do something first though, and it was more important than humoring Steve right now. "I'm gonna need Two-Bit's car first though," he said decisively.

"Where are you gonna go?" Pony asked. His tone was cautious and Darry wondered if he had already guessed what had to happen next.

Darry considered lying. He knew this wasn't going to go over well. But he knew the truth would come out eventually. He sighed, resigned. "The police station."

Silence met this revelation. Three sets of eyes were staring at him in disbelief. Darry quietly waited for this information to sink in.

"Have you lost your mind?" Steve finally demanded.

"Steve…" Two-Bit said warningly.

"You're gonna call the _cops_ on _Soda_?" Steve went on, ignoring Two-Bit.

"Soda is _missing_ ," Darry snapped. "That's what you're supposed to do when someone goes missing."

Steve rolled his eyes. "And you really think that the fuzz is gonna do anything about some seventeen year old Greaser who didn't come home one night?"

That stung.

"Well, we have to do something!" Darry shot back angrily. "If _you_ wanna drive around aimlessly just like we've been doing for hours, that's your business. But this is what I have to do."

"Darry, have you thought this through?" Two-Bit asked carefully.

Darry sighed heavily. "Yeah," he said flatly. "I have."

"But if the fuzz get involved…" Pony said slowly, clearly working through the consequences of this course of action as he spoke. "The state will find out about this. What if… what if they try and take me and Soda away again?"

"I know, Pony," Darry said sympathetically. "But it's worth the risk if we can find Soda."

It was the lesser of two evils. Yes, he was risking a lot by going to the police about Soda not coming home last night. But even if both his brothers were taken away from him, at least he'd know where they were and he'd know what he had to do to get them back. Not having any idea where Soda was right now was driving him crazy. He would risk anything to find him.

What really scared him about this whole thing was that Soda knew that full well. He knew how much it would scare Darry to not know where he was. Sure, Soda would push his boundaries from time to time. He might disappear for an hour or two when he forgot to tell Darry where he was going. But it was going on seventeen hours since anyone had heard anything from Sodapop. The implications of that were terrifying. He could feel in his gut that something was really wrong. He was just too afraid to really stop and think about what might actually be wrong. Instead he just had to keep moving. He had to at least pretend he had this situation under control. While he still could.

"If you wanna go out and search some more, that's fine," Darry told Steve before turning his attention back to Two-Bit and Pony, "but someone needs to be here at all times in case there's a phone call."

"We've got it covered," Two-Bit assured him.

Darry nodded. "I'll be back."

It felt strange walking out that door. In a way, he felt as if he were condemning his brother. If somehow he were mixed up with something he shouldn't be, by getting the fuzz involved Darry could be sentencing his brother to jail time. He knew that both Pony and Soda did their best to stay out of trouble, but in truth that was often easier said than done in their neighborhood. And even if that wasn't the case, another brother disappearing under his watch wasn't going to look good to their social worker. This decision could tear their family apart.

He remembered back to so many months ago when Pony had come home hours past curfew one night. He had told him he had almost called the cops on him. That had been a lie though. He would have gone out looking for him, torn apart the entire town like he had just done in search of Soda. He had told Pony he had been going to call the cops that night in an attempt to scare him into never doing that to him again. He had thought that was the way to get Pony to start using his head. In reality, calling the cops was only an option if they were truly desperate. Like they were now.

He could only hope that all this would be worth it in the end and they'd find his brother.

* * *

Darry had never felt so intimidated walking into the police station. It was certainly not the first time he had been here, but it was the first time he had been here for something like this. It was a very rare occasion when he felt this young. Or rather when he felt his actual age. But this was certainly one of those times.

There were two people in front of him in line, and Darry was forced to wait his turn. The closer he got to the desk, the more nervous he felt. He had never been a jittery person, and yet he found himself shifting from foot to foot anxiously as he waited.

Finally it was his turn.

As he approached he couldn't help but notice the uniformed police office looking him up and down, obviously drawing conclusions about him based solely on his appearance. Darry suddenly wished he had paused to change his clothes back home. He was still wearing the old clothing that he usually wore to work – stained and torn jeans with a t-shirt to match – making him more ragged than he usually did.

"Can I help you, son?" the office asked stiffly. While the term 'son' was usually use as a term of endearment, somehow this officer made it sound like something more derogatory.

"I need to report a missing person," Darry responded, standing up a bit straighter as he met the officer's gaze.

The officer sighed as if this was a bother. He shifted a few of his papers around on his desk. "What's the name?"

Darry wasn't quite sure what he was asking. "Mine or his?" he asked.

The officer shot him an annoyed look. "The missing person," he said as if it had been obvious. In Darry's opinion, it hadn't.

"Sodapop Curtis," Darry said.

At that, the officer rolled his eyes. "Look, kid, I ain't got time for jokes."

It was Darry's turn to look annoyed. There were very few times that Darry cursed his father with his creative names for his brothers. This was definitely one of those times.

"Neither do I," Darry shot back with as much conviction as he could muster. "My brother's name is Sodapop Patrick Curtis and he is missing."

The officer studied him, obviously trying to decide if he was going to believe him or not. Darry met his gaze, refusing to waver even for a moment. He came here to get help for his brother and he wasn't going to leave here without it.

"Fine," the officer finally relented, breaking the eye contact so that he could scribble something down on a piece of paper. "How old is he?"

"Seventeen," Darry answered.

"And when was the last time he was seen?" the officer asked, finally sounding as if he were taking him seriously.

"His friend saw him at eleven o'clock last night," Darry told him.

At that the officer abruptly stopped writing. He paused as if he were calculating something. Then he put his pen down and looked up at Darry with a cool expression. "There is no missing person's case until the subject has been missing for at least forty-eight hours," he said in a clipped tone. "Your brother has only been gone for a little over seventeen hours."

Darry gaped at him at that. " _Only_ seventeen hours?" he demanded, trying to keep his anger in check. "But he's _underage_. He's still a minor. There has to be some kind of exception to that rule for kids."

"A seventeen year old—" He cut himself off as if he were about to use a less than appropriate adjective to describe Soda and then continued as if that hadn't just happened, "is hardly a _kid_."

" _Legally_ , he is a kid," Darry snapped, his anger barely contained. "I should know; I'm his legal guardian. Until the day he turns eighteen he is still a minor."

The officer didn't look impressed. "Exceptions are made for toddlers who are abducted from the park. Not seventeen year olds who were probably out drinkin' all night and are now sleepin' off a hangover at some motel with some cheap tramp." That last part seemed to have inadvertently slipped out, but it couldn't be taken back and the officer only looked mildly annoyed that he hadn't censored himself.

Darry slammed both his hands down on the desk, seeing red. "Sodapop ain't like that," he said in a low and dangerous voice.

The officer looked at him coldly. "Careful, son," he said in a threateningly calm tone. "I'd hate to have to detain you for threatening a police officer."

For a moment, Darry honestly thought that he was going to lunge at the guy. The two of them were deathly still, each sizing the other one up. Finally, Darry took a deep breath as he forced his hands off of the table, stepping back and lowering his gaze. It wouldn't do Soda any good if he landed himself in the cooler.

"What am I supposed to do then?" Darry asked, unable to help the accusation in his voice.

"Check around with all his friends," the officer told him, the calmness in his voice infuriating. "Check all his usual hangouts. If you still haven't heard from him at the forty-eight hour mark, come back in and we will write up a report."

"I already did all that," Darry felt the need to point out.

The officer clearly wasn't concerned by this. "Check again," he said evenly. "I'm sure he'll turn up. If not, come back tomorrow and we'll submit a missing person report."

It seemed like such a passive way to go about locating a missing person. He wanted to question further and ask what would happen after they wrote up a report. Would they actually do anything more? Would they actually look for his brother? But he knew that if he stood here and continued to question the procedure, he was going to get himself thrown in jail. He just couldn't stay calm when it was obvious the cops thought so little of his brother based solely on his own appearance.

"Fine," Darry relented.

And with that he turned and walked out of the police station.

Outside, the sun had made its way through the overcast and he found it to be annoyingly bright. He had to pause and blink in order to get his eyes to adjust. Instinctually, he looked for his green truck in the parking lot, but of course it was not there. There was a sharp pang within his chest as he remembered why.

He stalked over to where he had left Two-Bit's car, and in a fit of rage he angrily kicked out at the tire. He hated to admit it, but Steve had been right. Going to the cops had been a mistake. It had been a pointless trip that had only taken up time that he did not have to waste right now. Because if nothing else, one thing was now painfully obvious.

If they wanted to find Sodapop, they were on their own.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Hello! I want to apologize again for not getting around to responding to reviews. Things have been really hectic and stressful lately. I'm also very behind on my own reviewing. So if you have a story that I normally follow and you haven't heard from me in a few chapter, know that I am going to get to it!

Anyway, I want to thank all you who have taken the time to leave a review on this story. It really motivates me to keep working on this and to get chapters out in a timely manner. So please continue to leave me your feedback! I write for you guys, after all!

Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! It actually took a strange turn because originally the flashback was written to be a separate one shot, but it just fit so well within this story I decided to include it here. Let me know what you think!

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

Darry stood at the window, looking out onto his darkened front lawn. Despite the late hour, the porch light was on. Unless they knew someone was coming home late, they didn't normally turn the porch light on. Darry didn't like to waste the energy having the outside light on when there wasn't a clear purpose for it.

He had already decided to leave the light on all night tonight, hoping somehow it would help Soda find his way home.

"Is this what it was like?" came Pony's soft voice. Darry turned away from the window to look to where Pony sat on the couch, his knees pulled up to his chest in almost a protective way. It was hours past when he would have normally gone to bed on a school night, but Darry didn't have it in him to point that out. He couldn't argue with Ponyboy, not tonight. "When me and Johnny disappeared. Is this what it was like?"

Darry took a deep breath, thinking over his answer carefully. "It's similar," he finally admitted. He walked over to the couch and carefully sat next to his youngest brother. "But when the two of you disappeared, we at least had a vague idea what happened. We heard from the cops about what happened at the fountain, so we figured you two were scared and had run off somewhere. It still scared us to death, but knowin' the two of you were together and probably just hiding out somewhere brought some comfort anyway." His eyes wandered back to window. "But this… this just makes no sense."

They were quiet for a minute, each of them reflecting on the implications of that statement. Darry and Steve had gone out looking again after Darry had returned from the police station. They had still found no trace of their missing Greaser. Darry had finally had enough of the fruitless search and had returned home to wait by the phone for a while. He just couldn't handle anymore aimless driving tonight. Steve had never been one to sit around and wait though, so he had gone back out with Two-Bit, continuing the search even though Darry couldn't imagine another place within Tulsa they could look.

It was as if Soda had simply vanished into thin air. That's what really scared them about this whole thing.

"I'm sorry I ever put you through anything like this, Darry," Pony said.

Darry nodded. "I know," he assured him. He paused. "I blame myself for that night more than anyone, you know." Pony looked over at him in surprise at that. He had never admitted that to anyone before. "If I hadn't driven you away that night… none of that woulda ever happened."

"You didn't mean to, though," Pony pointed out. "If I had just used my head and not fallen asleep in the lot…" He let the thought hang.

"We both made mistakes that night," Darry allowed. He sighed. He didn't like talking about this, especially given their current situation. Last time one of his brothers ran off, they ended up losing two of their friends. The idea that their gang could get even smaller made him feel physically ill.

"I just don't understand what coulda happened," Pony said softly, looking down at his knees. As Darry looked over at him he saw that he was blinking back tears. "I don't understand what could possibly keep Soda from comin' home."

Darry sighed heavily. "I dunno what to tell you, Pony," he admitted.

"I mean, you and Steve went all over Tulsa twice today," Pony went on, clearly getting worked up the more the thought about it. "If he was still here, you woulda found him, wouldn't you?" Darry was silent, unable to admit that Pony was probably right. "But if he's not in Tulsa… where could he be?"

"I'm sorry, Pony," Darry said quietly. "I don't have any answers for you. I'm just as lost as you are."

"Do… do you think someone might have kidnapped him?" Pony blurted, looking over at Darry with barely contained panic in his eyes.

Darry was silently cursing Pony's wild imagination. "I think it'd be pretty hard for someone to take him and ditch the truck too," he reasoned, only feeling half-confident about the logic. He carefully put an arm around Pony's shoulder, unsure if that was the right thing to do in that moment. He was comforted when Pony leaned in to him. "Try not to think about it," he said, giving his youngest brother a light squeeze. "If you let your imagination run away with you, you're just going to keep on imagining worse and worse situations. It's only been a day since Soda went missing. There's still a chance there's a simple explanation for all this."

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Pony said flatly, leaning his head into Darry's shoulder. Tears were suddenly streaking down his cheeks.

Darry frowned and then took a deep breath. "I'm tryin' to," he said quietly.

They lapsed into silence. There was nothing more that Darry could say to comfort Pony. As painful as that was, he knew that from experience. This wasn't the first time that he had to comfort a brother while the other was missing.

 _The house was horribly quiet. Darry sat in the recliner holding the paper, but he couldn't focus enough to read any of it. He kept on glancing at the door anxiously. Surely his younger brother would come walking through that door any minute now. Surely after being on the run for two days, he would have come to his senses by now and come home, realizing that together they would be able to get through this._

 _But the door remained firmly closed._

 _Darry dropped the paper as he brought both of his hand up to rub his face, his exhaustion getting the best of him. He had done this. He had driven his brother away. He was the reason that Pony didn't feel like he could come home no matter what kind of trouble he had gotten into._

 _A crash from outside caused him to look up. He was on his feet in a moment, going to investigate, his heart in his throat as he tried not to get his hopes up too much. As he pushed open the screen door he couldn't help the disappointment that washed over him. It was just Soda._

 _It took a moment before Darry realized something about the middle brother was off. He had his back to him, his shoulders slightly hunched. Darry's gaze swept the area around him and saw that the trash cans were knocked over, which had probably been the source of the commotion._

" _Soda?" Darry said carefully as he walked more fully out onto the porch. But it was as if Soda hadn't heard him. Darry descended the porch steps and stopped beside his brother, craning to try and get a look at his face. "Soda?" he repeated._

 _Soda finally looked up at him. His eyes were wide and haunted looking and an unlit cigarette hung from his lips, trembling a bit. In fact, as Darry really looked at him he realized that his whole body was trembling._

 _Darry felt his stomach plunging as his heart twisted at the sight. "Soda, what's wrong?"_

 _Soda held up the lighter in his hand. He flicked it a couple times, but his hands were shaking too much and he couldn't get the flame to ignite for more than just a moment. "I… I can't get this damn thing to light," he mumbled around his cigarette. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. He tried a couple more times before he let out a frustrated groan and threw the lighter to the ground._

 _Darry looked at him curiously. He had been relatively composed when he had left earlier that day to go visit Sandy. Sure, he had been upset about Pony's disappearance and been exhausted from not getting any sleep in two days, but Darry figured a visit to his girlfriend would have calmed him rather than caused something like this._

 _Darry leaned down and picked up the lighter. "Here," he said._

 _He flicked the spark wheel and was able to get the flame to jump up on the first try. He held it out, cupping his free hand around it to protect it from the breeze, so that Soda could light his cigarette off of it. Soda leaned forward to put the end of the cigarette in the flame, but he was having a hard time holding it still and couldn't quite inhale at the right moment or with enough force. After watching him struggle for a minute, Darry felt his concern growing. Something was very wrong._

 _At still not being able to light his cigarette, Soda looked quite close to completely breaking down. Desperate to do anything he could to make his brother feel better, Darry did something he never did. He reached out and took the cigarette from Soda's lips and placed it between his own instead. He had tried smoking when he was younger – everyone in their neighborhood had smoked at one time or another – but he hadn't taken to it. He put too much stock into his athletic ability, something few other Greasers did, to be a regular smoker. Still, despite that, he did know how to light a cigarette._

 _He flicked the spark wheel again and put the end of the cigarette into the flame. He sucked air through the stick and into his mouth, but was careful not to actually let the smoke go down this throat into his lungs. As soon as the cigarette was lit, he blew the small amount of smoke out of his mouth as he handed it back to Soda._

" _Thanks," Soda mumbled, immediately taking a long drag._

" _C'mere, come sit down," Darry implored. His brother looked like he was about to collapse despite the fact that the cigarette was supposed to be relaxing. When Soda didn't immediately respond, Darry took him by the arm and gently led him over to the porch steps. "Tell me what happened."_

 _Soda took in a shuttering breath. "I went to see Sandy," he said quietly._

 _Darry nodded. He had known this much. "Did somethin' happen between you and Sandy?" he prodded._

" _She's pregnant."_

 _Darry could only stare as his heart practically stopped in his chest. It wasn't that he didn't know that Soda was doing that kind of thing with girls. It was just that he had thought Soda was more careful than that. Soda wasn't even seventeen yet, he was far from ready to settle down and have a family._

 _Darry opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out._

 _Soda swallowed, staring straight ahead. "It ain't mine." His voice was hoarse and barely audible. It took Darry a moment to really grasp what he was saying. It wasn't his baby. Darry couldn't help but feel a wave a relief washing over him, although it was accompanied by growing pity for his little, heartbroken brother. Soda blinked a few times, a strangely blank look on his face as if he were barely aware of what was going on. "Her… her parents are sendin' her to Florida to live with her grandmother."_

" _Oh, Soda," Darry sighed. "I'm so sorry. I know you liked her."_

" _I loved her," Soda said flatly. He paused as he took another hit off his cigarette. "I love her." Darry didn't miss the change of tense in the second statement. But he didn't get a chance to comment on it. The last shards of his self control crumbled as Soda dissolved into tears._

 _Darry wound an arm around Soda. "Sh, it's okay," he tried to soothe. "It's gonna be okay, Sodapop."_

" _F-first Pony…" Soda murmured. "N-now S-Sandy…" Darry felt his heart twist in his chest. Pony and Sandy both meant so much to Soda. To lose them both so close together was too much for his middle brother. He didn't deserve that._

" _I'm so sorry, Soda," Darry repeated, not sure what else he could say._

 _Soda tried to take another hit, but he was shaking so bad at this point that he couldn't. "W-what if Pony doesn't come back? W-what if w-we've lost him f-forever."_

 _Darry desperately wanted to reassure him. But he couldn't. Because he didn't know what was going to happen. All he could do was sit there and let Soda cry, lending him the comfort of his presence and hoping that made some kind of difference._

Now Darry sat with his youngest brother, listening as Pony's tried and failed to contain his breakdown and he realized just how eerily similar the circumstances were. Just like when it was Soda here and Pony missing, Darry had no comforting words to share. He closed his eyes almost as if he were in physical pain as the feelings from the week he drove his youngest brother out of the house came rushing back at him, threatening to suffocate him. Part of him wanted to breakdown right along with Pony, but he knew that he had to be the strong one. That was his job as not only the big brother but the guardian.

And he realized something with a newfound perspective. This feeling of helplessness didn't get any easier.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Darry woke up slowly, knowing immediately that something was wrong even though he wasn't really sure what it was. He definitely wasn't lying in his bed; he had apparently fallen asleep in some kind of awkward sitting position, half leaning over uncomfortably. As he shifted, he found that both his neck and his back protested the movements, feeling stiff and achy from being in the uncomfortable position for so long.

He blinked his eyes open and his living room came into focus. He automatically glanced toward the television; it wouldn't have been the first time he had fallen asleep in front of the TV, too tired to make it to his bedroom. But the set was off. He wracked his brain for a moment, trying to remember what had happened.

Then it all came crashing back to him.

Darry's gaze wandered around the living room. He spotted Pony curled up in a small ball on the other end of the couch, sleeping soundly. At a glance, it seemed that neither Steve nor Two-Bit had come back last night.

And neither had Soda.

Darry took a deep breath as he slowly pulled himself up off the couch, being careful so as not to wake Ponyboy. As he looked over at his little brother, he saw that he didn't so much as twitch. The two of them had been up very late the night before, hoping and praying for their brother to come stumbling in with some kind of lame excuse for where he had been for the past twenty-four hours. By the time Darry had dropped off around three in the morning, there had still been no sign of Soda.

Even though he was afraid he knew what he would find, Darry found his feet carrying him down the hallway toward the bedrooms. He nudged open the door to the room that Pony and Soda shared. For just a split second, as he looked at the mound of blankets that were haphazardly piled on the bed, he almost allowed himself to believe that Soda had snuck in during the early hours of the morning, slipping past where Darry and Pony had been asleep on the couch and crawling into bed.

But as Darry slowly approached the bed, it became painfully obvious that wasn't the case. The bed was empty.

Darry wasn't sure how long he stood there for, staring at that empty bed. He was transfixed as he was suddenly overwhelmed by memories of dragging his little brothers out of bed in the mornings. Pony wasn't much of a morning person, but he could be considered downright cheery in comparison to Soda, who was a complete night owl. Getting Soda up in the morning was always a chore, even when he was little. Their father had to carry Soda out to the truck on school days more times than Darry could count when he was older than he had ever liked to admit. Even these days, getting Soda up in the morning for a job that he actually liked going to usually took an extra twenty minutes and often required stealing the blankets off the bed as motivation to get up and get in the shower. That was always especially effective in the winter time.

Would Darry get to have the burden of this chore on his shoulders again? He could only hope and pray…

"What if he doesn't come back?"

Darry whipped around so quickly that he almost tripped over himself. For a moment he had forgotten that anyone else existed. Now he focused on Pony standing in the doorway, still blinking sleep out of his eyes as he looked up at him sadly.

"He'll come back," Darry said, trying to sound more sure than he felt.

"You don't know that," Pony pointed out flatly.

Darry sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "You're right," he admitted reluctantly. It was hard for him – not only as the older brother but also as the legal guardian – to admit that he didn't have all the answers. But he had to remind himself that Pony was growing up and wasn't so easily fooled anymore. "But I do know this: if there is any justice in the universe, he will come back to us." _We can't lose anybody else…_ he added silently. He took a deep breath. "I also know this: _when_ he does come back to us, I'm never letting either of you out of my sight ever again."

Pony gave him a small smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. "I think that's fair," he agreed, his voice straining to sound optimistic.

Just then, they both heard the front door slam. Pony was gone in the blink of an eye, running to the front of the house to investigate. Darry was much slower to get going. Deep down, he knew that at this point it wasn't going to be as easy as Soda just strolling in through their front door. They weren't that lucky. He could only hope that they were lucky enough that Soda would be found at all.

As he headed for the front room of the house, he heard loud voices and was immediately able to determine that Steve and Two-Bit had shown back up. Steve was already ranting loudly about something that Darry couldn't quite follow as he entered the living room. He took in the two Greasers, noting that they were both still wearing the same clothes that had on the night before when they had left here.

"You two weren't out all night, were you?" Darry asked Two-Bit as he approached in an undertone, hoping not to draw Steve's attention just yet.

Two-Bit looked up at him with eyes that were drooping with exhaustion. "He's a man on a mission," he said flatly, no sign of the lighthearted jokester he normally was. "I dragged him to my place and got him to sleep for maybe an hour or two. But that's it."

Darry stared at him in shock for a moment. "What could you have possibly been doing all night?"

Two-Bit sighed. "We looked in every nook and cranny in all of Tulsa," he said. He frowned. "We turned up nothing. Less than nothing. We talked to everyone we know and none of them have any idea where Soda could be." He paused. "Darry… I don't think he's in Tulsa. We woulda found him if he was or at least come across someone who'd seen him."

Darry felt his stomach fall at this admission. "I'm very afraid you're right," he said quietly.

But Steve had come to a pause in his rant and had apparently heard them.

"So what do you think happened, he just up and left?" Steve demanded, glaring.

"I can't imagine he'd ever willingly leave us like that," Pony pointed out softly, his gaze shifting between Steve and Darry unsurely. "Not without tellin' us where he was goin'."

"I have no idea what happened," Darry said. "That's the whole problem. There's no logical reason for him to disappear into thin air like this."

"I'll tell you a logical reason," Steve shot back angrily. "Foul play. Someone took him."

This statement was met by silence and blank stares.

"How do you figure that?" Two-Bit finally asked.

"It's the only thing that makes sense," Steve insisted. "It's like the kid said, he never would have left willingly."

"Yeah, but how do you figure a seventeen year old Greaser gets kidnapped while driving home?" Two-Bit persisted. "Doesn't seem very likely to me. I mean, they woulda had to leave the truck somewhere, wouldn't they? That truck is hard to miss, we'd of seen it."

Steve shook his head. "Maybe they took the truck too. They coulda had a heater or somethin' and made Soda drive somewhere."

"That seems like a bit of a stretch," Darry said skeptically. "I mean, when would they had gotten him, while he was sitting at a stop light? I can't imagine that Soda wouldn't have seen someone runnin' up to the truck and then just driven away. Or at least locked the doors."

"Not necessarily," Pony said. They all turned to him. "Steve never actually saw Soda get in the truck, remember? Maybe someone jumped him when he was getting into the truck at the drag race. Then they coulda taken the keys off of him and driven away."

Darry closed his eyes as he ran his hands over his face. Clearly Pony had been giving the idea of Soda being kidnapped a lot of thought – whether intentionally or not – since he had first brought it up the night before.

"Who would want to take him though?" Darry asked. "I get being jumped and mugged, but who would want to kidnap Soda?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Steve demanded. "Those damn Socs!"

"But _why_?" Darry persisted. He opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on Steve. "It makes no sense. They've never done anything like this before. So, why now? And why Soda?"

"That's what we should be askin' them!" Steve declared.

Darry sighed. "What are you gonna do? Just go start bangin' on doors over on the west side?"

"Maybe," Steve spat. "Why not?"

"Because if you just stroll up into the west side, you are gonna get your ass beat," Darry snapped.

"Well, what do _you_ think we should do?" Steve demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just sit around and wait?"

Darry pinched the bridge of his nose. He was starting to get a headache.

"I've got an idea," Pony suddenly spoke up.

* * *

A few hours later, Darry sat with Pony in Two-Bit's car just outside of the high school. He had made Steve and Two-Bit stay at the house to wait by the phone for a while, knowing that Steve would be too much of a hot head to stay calm in this situation. He was also hoping that the two of them might get some rest. The exhaustion wasn't going to help anybody.

Truth be told, Darry was skeptical about this plan. When Pony first purposed it, he had initially tried to talk him out of it. It was partly because he wanted to keep Pony off of the front lines of this whole mess, but also because he didn't like going to people outside of their group for help. However, Pony had made some good points about his plan and with Steve and then Two-Bit backing him up, Darry found that he could not come up with a good enough reason not to at least try it.

So here they were.

"Are you sure they'll come out here?" Darry asked again, his eyes trained on the front doors of the school. It was an important part of their plan that didn't make much sense to Darry. When he was in school all the Socs always ate in the cafeteria.

Pony nodded. "Cherry and Randy don't eat in the cafeteria anymore," he said. "Not since… well you know." He shifted in his seat. "And even if they don't, I can go in and find them."

Darry frowned at that, but thankfully Pony didn't notice. There was no way Darry was going to let Pony do this without him there. But they would deal with that if it became an issue.

Finally the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the school's lunch break. Almost immediately, students came filing out of the front doors, almost as if they had been waiting just on the other side for the bell to release them. Most of the first wave of students out the door were Greasers, which was to be expected. Most Greasers didn't like school and therefore took any excuse to leave the building, including taking lunch off campus.

There were a few middle class students who also appeared from the school, but just as Darry had expected, he didn't see any Socs. He was about to point this out to Pony, when he noticed his brother straighten up as he focused his gaze on two of the people leaving the school.

"There they are," he breathed.

Darry followed his gaze. Sure enough, he spotted the Soc boy that had shown up on his front porch while his kid brother had been recovering from being sick. Next to him was the redhead that had testified at their hearing. Before Darry could really consider how to proceed, Pony was already out the door and Darry was scrambling to follow him.

"Hey! Cherry!" Ponyboy called as he hurried over to the two Socs.

Cherry looked over, but when she spotted his brother she didn't look terribly pleased to see him. However, she did slow to a stop and allow him to approach her, which was more than Darry had been expecting. Randy, on the other hand, looked horribly uncomfortable and took several more steps before he reluctantly stopped, glancing around him uneasily as if worried someone was going to spot him.

"Hello Ponyboy," Cherry greeted with a polite smile, though she seemed careful to keep her distance.

"Hey, sorry," Pony said, seeming to sense how uncomfortable Cherry and Randy both were even though Cherry hid it pretty well. "I just need to ask you about somethin' real quick."

"Sure," Cherry said with a nod. "I noticed you've missed a few days of school. What's going on?"

"It's my brother," Pony said. "Sodapop. He's missing."

At this, Cherry looked genuinely concerned. "Missing?" she repeated.

"Yeah," Pony said. "He went out with one of his friends the night before last and he never came home. No one knows what happened to him."

"Oh, that's awful," Cherry said, sounding sincere. Darry was honestly surprised by how much she seemed to care. Sure, she had helped the Greasers out when it had come to the rumble a few months ago, but this was a personal family matter. Honestly, he hadn't expected her to care much. Even Randy seemed to be leaning in closer, listening to the exchange.

Pony took a deep breath, seeming to gather his courage. "Well, one of our friends came up with a theory that…" he paused and shifted uncomfortably. Then he seemed to switch his train of thought. "You know, Soda wouldn't just take off. He knows how much that would kill us. He'd never do that to us. So somethin' must have happened to make him not come home."

"What do you think happened?" Cherry asked.

"We… we don't know," Pony said. "All we can do is guess. But what I was wondering… you know Socs like to jump us when we're on our own? I wonder if you think maybe some Socs… maybe some Socs grabbed him? Maybe took him somewhere and is keepin' him there?"

Cherry furrowed her brow at that. "I don't know why any Socs would do that," she said honestly. "I mean, I get that some get their kicks out of jumping Gre—" she cut herself off and glanced at Darry before continuing "…jumping people from your side of town. But I can't imagine why any of them would want to kidnap someone." She glanced back at Randy for backup.

Randy glanced back behind him before taking a small step toward them. "Cherry's right," he added. "Jumping Greasers is usually done in the heat of the moment, usually after drinking. Kidnapping takes planning and it takes time. As soon as they sobered up they'd have lost their nerve, let him go."

"So you haven't heard anythin'?" Pony asked almost desperately. "Anybody gloatin' about jumpin' any Greasers the night before last?"

Randy shook his head. "No, not lately. Sorry, Ponyboy."

"Have you notice that anybody's been missin'?" Darry spoke up, seeming to startle both Cherry and Randy. "Somebody who should have been at school but hasn't in the last two days?"

Cherry and Randy looked at each other as they thought it over. "No one from our classes," Cherry finally spoke up. "No one other than Pony."

"You're sure?" Darry pressed.

Cherry looked at him with surprisingly sympathetic eyes. "Not that I can think of. But I'll pay closer attention after lunch. Randy can ask around his friends too. Right?"

Randy sighed. "I can try, but they don't really talk to me anymore," he mumbled. "Not since I didn't show up for that rumble." He glanced around. "C'mon, Cherry. We're outcasted enough as it is without being seen out here talkin' to…" He cut himself off and then sent an apologetic look at Darry and Pony.

"We'll see what we can find out," Cherry promised even as Randy was already starting to walk away.

"Thanks," Pony said, though he couldn't keep the disappointment out of his voice as he watched them go.

Darry turned to go back to the car, but stopped when he realized that Pony wasn't moving. He looked over at his brother.

"It was a long shot that they'd know anythin', Pony," Darry told him.

Pony sighed. "I thought… I really thought…"

Darry waited, but it didn't seem like he was going to continue. "C'mon, Pony. Let's head back to the house."

After another moment Pony finally turned and followed him back to the car. He was silent the whole drive home and Darry knew that he was disappointed that his idea hadn't led them to anything. However, Darry couldn't say that he was surprised. He never believed that the Socs were capable of something like this. Sure, they could be cruel in the heat of the moment, but once things calmed down they wouldn't have been able to pull off something like this for this amount of time. He agreed with Randy that even if they had tried something on this scale, they would have eventually lost their nerve.

As he drove, Darry glanced down at his watch and couldn't help but do the math. Just about thirty-eight hours later and they were no closer to finding their brother.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Hey guys! Thanks for all the support I've gotten for this story! I haven't gotten a chance to respond to review much lately, it's been a rough couple of months for me, but I really appreciate all the feedback and it really gives me motivation to keep up with this story! I wanted to let you know that I have the next four chapters for this story outlined, and things are going to start picking up big time in the next chapter. So stay with me! And please continue to review!


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Okay, now we're finally getting into the meat of this thing! I thank all of you who have stuck with me up to this point, I promise I am going somewhere with all of this! I appreciate each and every review that is left, please keep it up and I will try not to leave you hanging too long!

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

If Darry was being brutally honest with himself, he knew that he had put this off for longer than he really should have.

Every time he thought about going back to the police station, he felt sick to his stomach. It would be different if the cops actually seemed interested in helping them. But begging them to care about his missing brother the first time had been emotionally exhausting. And so, he was not looking forward to doing it again now that they had passed the forty-eight hour mark.

Given that, he came up with the worst excuses to put it off. They ate lunch late and Darry spent more time than was necessary preparing sandwiches and then hounding on everyone else to eat while he only picked at his own meal. He called work for the second time that day to check in, making sure his boss was aware of the situation, even though he had just talked with him that morning. He then loitered around the living room for a while under the premise of straightening up.

While he was doing that, he came across Soda's jacket, which had been tossed onto the floor and was half hidden behind the couch. He must not have been able to find it before he left the other night so he must have just gone out without it. Darry wasn't sure why, but the thought of Soda being out there somewhere without his jacket made his stomach twist into a knot. Logically, he knew that whether or not Soda had a jacket was probably not going to make any kind of difference with the situation, but something about it just made Darry feel even worse about this whole thing.

"Darry?" Two-Bit prodded carefully, approaching Darry as he was hanging up Soda's jacket.

Darry sighed. He knew that he was putting it off too long. Honestly, he was surprised the others had let him get away with it for so long. Perhaps they sensed his trepidation and decided not to push him.

"Yeah, I know," he admitted. "I'm gonna get goin' in a minute."

"I can come with you," Pony offered.

But Darry shook his head. "I'd rather you didn't," he said, not missing the look of hurt that crossed Pony's features at that. "I really don't want you to be on the cop's radar while I'm filing a missing person report for Soda. Seeing you with me might give them the idea that I'm not a fit guardian and they might decide to call social services." He didn't want to admit that he himself was questioning whether or not he actually was a fit guardian as this was the second time he had lost track of one of his brothers. That was something to deal with later.

"Oh," Pony said flatly, clearly disappointed.

But Darry would rather him here and disappointed than taken away from him.

Two-Bit glanced over at Steve. "If I go with Darry, will you promise to stay put?"

Steve glared at him. "Like I can't go out by myself?"

"You ain't in your right mind right now," Two-Bit said, ducking the predicted swing from Steve. "I don't think it's a good idea for any of us to be wandering around on our own right now." He glanced at Darry, almost as if he could sense that he was about to protest. "Whatever happened to Soda, it happened while he was off on his own. Safety in numbers, right?"

Darry sighed. He didn't have the energy to argue, especially when the logic seemed to be enough to placate Steve, at least for the moment.

"Right," he agreed. He looked over at Steve and Pony. "You two stay put until we get back. We won't be long."

Pony nodded while Steve just crossed his arms over his chest, looking annoyed. There was something dangerous shining in his eyes. He had become unpredictable in the wake of Soda's disappearance. Soda had always been the only one who was able to keep Steve in check. Darry feared for them all if they weren't able to find Soda, but he especially feared for Steve. This could be what would finally push him off the deep end, much like Johnny's death did to Dally.

Two-Bit let the way outside. After listening to the door slam behind him, Darry looked over at Two-Bit as he was fishing the keys out of his pocket.

"You okay to drive?" he asked.

"As okay as you are," Two-Bit said. He glanced over his shoulder at him. "Did you get any sleep at all last night?"

Darry sighed. "A few hours maybe," he said.

Two-Bit nodded. "We'll make some coffee when we get back," he said, almost as if he were talking to himself. "I have a feeling it's gonna be another late night."

Darry had the sinking feeling that he was right.

They climbed into Two-Bit car and immediately took off. They were silent for the majority of the ride, neither having much to say about the current situation.

"What do you think the odds are that Pony and Steve will be at each other's throats by the time we get back?" Darry asked, just because he couldn't stand the silence any longer.

Two-Bit shrugged. "Who knows? I mean they both have the same worries at the moment. Maybe spending some time together like that will help them see they have more in common than they think."

Darry glanced over at Two-Bit, cocking an eyebrow at him. "When did you get so insightful?" he asked.

Two-Bit smirked. "Hell, I've always been insightful. You people just never listened too closely before."

Darry gave Two-Bit something that was close to a real smile. It was good that someone in their group was able to keep their sense of humor throughout all of this. It made the situation just a little bit more bearable to be able to laugh about something so trivial.

Two-Bit slowed down as they approached the police station. Looking up at the building, Darry couldn't help but notice how very small he felt.

"Has this building always been this big?" Two-Bit asked, obviously having a similar feeling.

"Yeah," Darry confirmed shortly. He took a deep breath as Two-Bit parked the car. "C'mon. Let's get this over with."

As they crossed the parking lot, Darry found that he was glad that Two-Bit insisted that he come along. It was a little bit easier knowing that he wasn't doing this alone this time.

They walked into the station to find that, unlike last time, there was no one in there that wasn't in uniform. Darry suddenly realized that the only thing worse than waiting in line to report his brother as a missing person, was not getting to wait in line and having no time to mentally prepare himself. He had never been one to procrastinate before, but now he wished for any excuse not to walk up to that desk and try and convince some stranger to care about his brother.

But there was none.

As he approached the desk, the first thing that Darry noticed was that this was not the same officer he had spoken to the day before. That was a bit comforting. This officer was significantly younger than the other one had been, which was odd since most of the younger officers tended to be out in the field and not on desk duty.

"Can I help you?" the officer asked as Darry approached.

"My brother hasn't been home in over forty-eight hours," Darry told him, trying to cover all his bases as quickly as possible to avoid having to defend his presence here again. "I need to file a missing person report for him."

The officer nodded, accepting this much quicker than the other police officer had. He shuffled his papers around on his desk. "What's the missing person's name?" he asked.

Darry set his jaw. "Sodapop Patrick Curtis," he said steadily, his eyes daring the man in front of him to doubt him. He was hoping that adding Soda's middle name – which was thankfully much more normal than his first name – might deter this cop from thinking that he was just making up a name like the other cop had.

The officer paused and looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Really?" He sounded more surprised than skeptical though.

Darry nodded. "Really," he said firmly.

The officer nodded. "That's a unique name," he commented as he wrote the name down on a form in front of him. Darry swallowed before he nodded in agreement. It seemed like such an odd exchange, one that he hadn't been prepared for. "How old is he?"

"He's seventeen," Darry answered.

"Okay," the officer said. "When and where was he last seen?"

"Wednesday night around eleven o'clock," Darry told him. "He was…" His thought trailed off. The drag races him and Steve had gone to that night weren't exactly legal. "Him and some friends were out on Route Ninety-Seven up by Eighty-First Street."

The officer glanced up at him with a knowing look. Darry felt his stomach sink.

"I see," he said, simply. Darry was a little surprised. Clearly the officer knew what went on out on Route Ninety-Seven. But it didn't appear he was going to comment on it. That was unusual. "I'm going to need as detailed description of the missing person as you can manage."

Relief washed over Darry. It was refreshing to be taken seriously. He carefully described his brother with as much detail as he could manage with input from Two-Bit from time to time. He was distraught when he couldn't remember what Soda had been wearing that night; he had only gotten a glimpse of him as he was heading out when Darry was coming in from work. Thankfully, the officer let him use the phone to call the house so he could talk to Steve, who was able to remember what Soda had been wearing. Darry also gave a detailed description of the truck that was also missing. The officer asked for some other information as well, such as his home address and where he worked, which Darry gladly provided.

"Okay, I think that's all I need," the officer finally said.

"What happens now?" Darry questioned, feeling a little more comfortable with this officer than he had with the other one.

"We'll put this information out to the officers in the field," he told him. "They'll all be keeping an eye out for your brother. We'll also put the information into a database that will alert us if anyone fitting his description is admitted to the hospital or encounters any of our officers."

 _Encounters any of our officers._ That was a very polite way to say gets arrested.

Darry nodded. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"Just doing my job," the man replied. "In the meantime, try and keep up with his friends and his normal hangouts. If you hear anything, please report it to us so that we can keep his file updated."

"Okay," Darry said. "Thanks for your help."

"No problem," the officer said. "Hopefully there will be a simple explanation for all of this."

Darry nodded. "Yeah. That's what we've been hoping." His tone was flat and he knew he didn't sound like he had much hope at the moment.

Darry and Two-Bit made their way out of the police station and back into the parking lot.

"He didn't seem too bad," Two-Bit commented as they walked.

"No, he didn't," Darry agreed. "He wasn't nearly as bad as the other officer I talked to last time."

"Well, that's good," Two-Bit said. They had reached his car at that point and Two-Bit went for the driver's seat again. Darry let him. He had to admit that he didn't feel particularly up to driving. He found himself feeling grateful once again that Two-Bit had insisted on coming with him. "Back to the house then?" Two-Bit asked.

Darry thought about it for a moment. "No. Let's make a stop first."

"Sure," Two-Bit said as he started the car. "Where to?"

XxXxX

Darry had only been here on a few occasions before. To be honest, he had a hard time remembering exactly where it was. Thankfully, Two-Bit knew exactly where they were going, having been here just the day before, as he kept on pointing out.

"Me and Steve already talked to him," Two-Bit said for the ump-teenth time as they climbed out of the car. "He knows what's going on."

Darry nodded. "I know. I just want to have my own conversation with him."

Two-Bit shrugged. "Suit yourself."

They headed up the walk to the run down house. This part of town wasn't much worse than where the Curtis house resided, but clearly this particular house wasn't kept up as well as theirs. Darry led the way up the overgrown walk and to the rickety front porch. As he knocked, he acknowledged that this was a time of day when the person he sought wasn't usually home. Even so, as the door open he found himself face to face with exactly who he wanted to speak to.

"Hello, Tim," Darry said.

"Darry," Tim Shepard returned with a nod. Despite the few times that Darry had shown up on his front porch, he didn't appear surprised to see him. He pushed the screen door open. "Come on in."

Darry walked in with Two-Bit on his heels. He took a quick glance around the messy living room, unconcerned, before he turned back to Tim. He had much bigger things on his mind right now than being bothered by someone else's clutter.

"I take it by the look on your face, you didn't come here to tell me you found Sodapop," Tim said, getting right to the point as he always did. He had never been one to beat around the bush.

"No," Darry confirmed flatly. "It's been two days and there's been no sign of him."

Tim scratched the back of his neck. "Glory, that is strange. It's like he just dropped off the face of the planet."

"I know," Darry said. "You haven't heard anything have you? Anything about what mighta happened to him? Or anything at all unusual that's happened over the past couple days?"

Tim shook his head. "Naw, ain't heard nothin'. I was even at the roadhouse last night and I asked around. Nothin' out of the ordinary the past couple days." He paused. "You think it mighta been those damn Socs? Maybe took him in retaliation for somethin'?"

Darry shook his head. "Somehow, I don't think so." Tim didn't look convinced – which didn't surprise Darry that he would have the same logic as Steve – but shrugged anyway. "Listen, I wonder if you can send some of your guys out looking around, maybe asking around to some of the other gangs in the area. See if anyone's heard anything."

"Sure thing, Darry," Tim agreed easily. "But you know you don't even gotta ask. I've already had my guys keepin' an eye out for him."

"I know," Darry said, sighing heavily. "I just feel like I should be doing something. Sitting around waiting for something to happen is killing me."

Tim gave him a sympathetic look, something that was very rare to see from the likes of Tim Shepard. "You look beat. Go home and get some rest. We'll keep an eye out for Soda. If he's anywhere near here, we'll find him."

"Thanks, Tim," Darry said. "I appreciate it."

"Try not to get too worked up about it," Tim said. "Maybe he just needed to blow off some steam for a while or somethin'."

But Darry shook his head. "It's not like Soda to just take off without saying anything," he pointed out.

Tim shrugged. "Sometimes people do weird things," he said.

That didn't make Darry feel any better. He suddenly remembered Soda running out of their house a few months ago because of Darry and Pony's fighting. He remembered the panic he had felt as he watched him take off like that just weeks after they had gotten Ponyboy back. It was the first time the thought of losing track of another brother had crossed his mind. It was also the last time that thought had crossed his mind. Darry and Pony still had their issues with each other from time to time, but overall they got along better than ever. There was no way they would have driven Soda out of the house again.

"I'm gonna get going," Darry mumbled, ready to get away from this situation. "Let me know if you hear anything."

"Will do," Tim agreed.

Darry turned and headed back outside.

"Feel better?" Two-Bit asked as they were heading back toward the car.

"Not really," Darry said flatly.

"Darry, you're doin' everything you possibly can," Two-Bit pointed out. "No one could possibly expect anything more from you."

"I feel like it's not enough," Darry admitted. "If it was enough, wouldn't Soda be back? Wouldn't I have found him?"

"Darry, you put too much on your shoulders," Two-Bit said sympathetically. "You're only human, you know? Some things are just… out of our control."

"I guess," Darry said. It didn't make him feel any better though. Nothing would make him feel any better until Sodapop was back home, safe and sound.

XxXxX

Back at the house, they found that not much had changed. Steve and Pony had been anxiously waiting for them, but unfortunately they didn't really have anything to report. As Two-Bit had predicted earlier, it was looking to be another long night.

Darry made dinner for everyone, even though none of them had much of an appetite. It took all three of them to convince Steve to stay in that night and not scour the neighborhood again. They were all too exhausted to be out searching that night, and sleep deprivation wasn't going to help any of them. Tonight they would have to leave the task to the cops and Tim Shepard's gang and hope for the best.

It was a quiet night. It went without saying that Two-Bit and Steve would stay over. It felt more secure to have them all under one roof. Perhaps Two-Bit had been right. Perhaps there was safety in numbers. Darry did know one thing for sure: when they did finally find Soda, he was never going anywhere by himself ever again.

The night was a long one. They kept the television on for as long as there was programming, just to have some kind of background noise. They were still all still awake when the last late night show ended, giving way to static.

Even so, none of them were interested in sleeping.

No one retired to any of the bedrooms, the two beds in the house remaining empty the entire night. Instead they sprawled out in the living room on the couch, in the recliner and even on the floor, dozing off only when staying awake proved to be too much. This went on all night, none of them getting much in the way of any real sleep.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened all night. It wasn't until the sun began streaming in through the living room window that anything changed.

They were all up and going about some semblance of a morning routine. Darry was in the kitchen working on a pot of coffee when he heard a knock at the front door. He froze, suddenly unable to move and hardly able to think.

"I'm looking for a Darrel Curtis," came an unfamiliar voice.

A moment later, Two-Bit appeared in the kitchen. "Darry," he said, sounding a bit off balance.

Darry nodded, not needing any more information than that. He took a deep breath as he straightened his spine before he marched out into the living room, Two-Bit on his heels. He spared a glance at Pony and Steve, who were standing at one end of the living room, eyes glued to the door.

Darry turned and walked to the door, looking through the screen door in order to take in the two uniformed police officers who stood on his front porch.

"Mr. Curtis?" one officer asked. Darry could only nod, his voice seeming to be lost in his throat. "I think we've found your brother."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** Okay guys, I'm so sorry this took so long after that cliffhanger I left you guys on. I hadn't planned on leaving you hanging for so long, but I really underestimated just how difficult this chapter was going to be to write. It's an emotionally rough chapter; I'm not going to lie. I actually came close to trashing it and taking the story in an easier direction, but then I would have had to rewrite the last chapter as well, so I decided to just throw this out there and hope for the best. I may lose some of you partway through. But I ask that you stick with it to the end and let me know what you think and if I did any of this justice. Good luck.

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

"Mr. Curtis?"

Darry blinked, realizing that he hadn't reacted to what the officer in front of him had just said. Something inside him had seemed to shut down at the sight of the two police officers standing on his porch. Several things had raced through his mind when he heard those words. The most prominent thought at the moment was that if Soda was okay, then he would be standing here on the front porch with these two cops.

Darry took a deep breath. "Where is he?" he asked, his voice sounding oddly detached.

"We need you to come with us," the officer said, noncommittedly.

The air in Darry's lungs felt thin. But he forced himself not to think about it. He had to be practical, he had to take charge. That was his job.

"Okay," he said. He turned around, seeing three sets of eyes all trained on him. "Ponyboy, you come with me. Steve and Two-Bit, you guys can take Two-Bit's car and follow us." There was no need to leave anyone here in case the phone rang this time.

His voice came out steady and no one questioned his directions. He was in charge of the situation, he was in control. And he was convinced that was the only reason he was able to keep anything together at this point. He blatantly ignored the dread that was making its way through his chest and the knot that his stomach was twisting into. He had to get everyone through this, which gave him less time to worry about how he was feeling. That was how he coped.

It didn't take them long to pull on shoes and jackets and then troop outside. There was a police car waiting for them on the curb. For just a moment, Darry froze on the porch as his breath hitched in his chest, the reality of the situation threatening to overwhelm him. But he quickly recovered himself as he led the way down the path. Him and Ponyboy silently climbed into the back of the police car while Steve and Two-Bit headed for their car.

As the car took off, Darry found himself staring resolutely at the back of the seat in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Pony sitting forward in his seat, alternating between looking out his side window and trying to catch a glimpse out the front windshield. He was trying to figure out where they were going. Darry didn't need to wonder, and he knew that if Pony were to really be honest with himself, he wouldn't have to either.

This was all too familiar to both of them.

"Darry," Pony said quietly, once it became painfully obvious where they were going.

But Darry shook his head. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Pony," he said softly, conscious of the strangers that were in the front of the vehicle.

Pony took in a shuttering breath. He had gone very pale at some point. "But Darry… Wh-what if…"

"Ponyboy," Darry said firmly. He knew he was being cold toward his younger brother, but he just couldn't listen to this right now, he couldn't even let the thought enter his head or all this was going to fall apart. "Not here. Let's just take this one step at a time."

Pony shifted uncomfortably, but thankfully it didn't seem like he wanted to argue with Darry right now. They endured the rest of the ride in silence. Darry didn't look up until they stopped in front of a large building. He took a steadying breath before he shifted his gaze to see that they had ended up exactly where he thought they would.

They were at the hospital.

Pony was the first out of the car. Darry sat there for a moment longer, gathering his strength. He reminded himself not to get ahead of himself or jump to conclusions. Just as he had told Pony, they needed to take this one step at a time.

As Darry finally climbed out of the back of the police car, he found that he was immediately surrounded by the rest of the gang; Pony, Steve and Two-Bit. It was quite a small gang these days. It was as if they were all drawn together by some unseen force. Darry tried to take comfort from the fact that they were all together, but it was getting harder to ignore the dread that was making its way through him.

The officers led the way into the emergency room. The boys were quiet as they followed, not even Two-Bit could find anything to say. For so early on a Saturday morning, the emergency room was practically deserted.

"Wait here, please," one of the cops told them when they were just inside of the door.

The boys did as they were told as the officers went up to the reception desk to have a conversation with one of the nurses.

"I don't got a good feelin' about this," Two-Bit finally said slowly, clearly unable to keep his mouth shut any longer.

"None of us do," Steve muttered.

Darry wanted to assure them that everything was going to be okay, or at least remind them not to jump to conclusions just yet. But as he watched the cops talk with the nurse and he observed the sympathetic look the nurse was now giving them, the words died before they could make their way to his lips. He took a deep breath, but it suddenly seemed as if he were trying to breathe through a straw.

Both of the police officers made their way back over to them, but Darry's eyes were still on the nurse who had picked up the phone and was now talking quickly to someone on the other end.

"There will be someone along shortly to speak with you," the same cop told them.

"You can't just tell us what's going on?" Two-Bit asked.

"I think it's best if someone else has this conversation with you," the cop told them slowly, looking a little uncomfortable. "There will be someone out in a minute."

"Well, you've been damn helpful," Steve growled. "Like a glorified taxi driver."

"Steve," Two-Bit said with warning in his tone, placing a restraining hand on his shoulder. Steve's muscles had coiled as if he were about to get into it with the cops. He was so close to breaking that they were all starting to see the cracks.

One thought suddenly crystalized in Darry's mind: this was going to destroy them all.

"Darry? You holdin' up okay?"

Darry's eyes wandered to Two-Bit, who was looking over at him with concern. The cops were gone and he found that he wasn't exactly sure when they had left.

Before he could even attempt to answer, a man in a white lab coat approached them, drawing all of their attention.

"I'm looking for the legal guardian of Sodapop Curtis," the doctor said evenly.

Darry was almost surprised when he stepped forward, as he hadn't made the conscious decision to do so. It was simply a reflex to the statement.

"That's me," he said. His voice came out much more calm and even than he had thought that it would.

The doctor nodded. He focused on him, but his eyes kept straying to the other boys around them, looking a bit uncomfortable with the audience. "Has the situation been explained to you yet?"

Darry shook his head. "No one's told us anythin'," he said.

"As we understand it, you reported Sodapop Curtis missing yesterday," the doctor started.

Darry nodded. "He's been missing since Wednesday night, but the police would only let us file a report after he had been gone for forty-eight hours." His voice was hard and unfeeling as he relayed the facts.

"We have a John Doe that was brought to the hospital a few hours ago," the doctor told him. "He has no identification on him, so standard protocol is to compare his description to recent missing person reports. This particular John Doe matches the description of Sodapop Curtis. We need you to confirm if it's him or not."

"John Doe?" Two-Bit said, looking confused.

"It's the name we give to a patient that we do not know the identity of," the doctor explained, only glancing at him briefly.

"You can't ask him?" Ponyboy asked.

Darry closed his eyes briefly, as if he were in physical pain. He did not want the answer to that question while they stood here in the middle of the emergency room.

The doctor regarded him critically. "No, we can't," he said slowly, clearly reluctant to give any more information than that.

They could all see the reason why in his eyes.

"He's dead, isn't he?" Shockingly, this horrifically blunt question came from Pony. His voice shook dangerously and there were now tears clouding his eyes.

"This John Doe is in the morgue," the doctor told them, a hint of sympathy in his voice. "We won't know whether not it is this missing person until we get someone to do a positive ID."

It was like the world was falling out from under him.

It was eerily similar to the day that their parents had died. Darry hadn't been home when the cops had shown up at their house that night, telling Pony and Soda that they had to come with them because something had happened with their parents, but not being any more specific than that. Soda had been able to call up Buck at the roadhouse before they left, who had given Dally the message to track down Darry, who had been out with some of his old school friends that night.

When the three brothers had met at the hospital, the doctor immediately tried to separate Darry from Pony and Soda. They had fought that, feeling suspicious of anyone who wanted to separate them. They had later found out that it was hospital policy to break bad news to the adults of the family and let them in turn break the news to the children.

It was the first time that Darry had ever been told that he was the adult of the family.

Darry wanted to crash to his knees, he wanted to scream and yell and fall into hysterics. But he couldn't do that, he didn't have that luxury. At a glance, he could see that Pony was already going to pieces. Despite the fact that nothing was certain yet, it just felt too real because they had been through this before.

"Stay here," Darry said flatly, turning his gaze away from Pony as well as Steve and Two-Bit. He couldn't look at any of them if he wanted to keep it together. "I'll be back."

"Darry," Two-Bit said quickly, stepping closer to him. But Darry still couldn't look at him. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Darry was a little taken aback that he had offered. He clearly didn't realize what this part of the process actually entailed. Darry was the only one who had done this before.

He took a deep breath. "No. You stay here with them."

"But, Darry…" Two-Bit started to protest.

"No," Darry said firmly. If it was at all humanly possible, he would never willingly put one of his friends through something like this. "I'll be back."

Without looking at the others, he nodded at the doctor, urging him to lead the way. As he walked, his feet felt heavy, as if his shoes were suddenly filled with concrete. His vision took on this strange, tunnel vision kind of quality. He was only aware of what was right in front of him as everything in his peripheral seemed to just fade away, unimportant.

The doctor led him to an elevator and hit the down button. That's right, he remembered as he stared at the glowing arrow that was pointed down at the floor. The morgue was in the basement of the hospital.

He had never been claustrophobic before, but the elevator ride down to the basement felt suffocating, almost as if the walls were pushing in on him. He didn't recall leaving the elevator, the next thing he remembered was walking down a long hallway. He wasn't sure if the air was actually thinner down here or if it was just the reality of the situation catching up to him.

They reached the room before Darry was ready to. But in all honestly, he knew that he'd never be ready for something like this. He never imagined he'd be here again, he never imagined he'd have to do this again for another family member.

The universe seemed intent on crushing him until there was nothing left.

"What happened?" Darry found himself asking without making the conscious decision to do so, his voice coming out hoarse and strangely off tempo. It was like something had shut down within him and someone else was currently controlling his actions. "To So—" He cut himself off and took a deep breath. "To this John Doe?" There was still hope. Wasn't there? Last time he had been in denial all the way to the morgue, convinced it had been some kind of mistake. But somehow, this time he was finding it hard to muster up the energy to question what was going on.

"It appears he was in some kind of fight," the doctor told him. "He was found by some campers out in the woods off of Route Ninety-Seven. We think the fight might have gotten out of hand and the body was dragged out there after it became clear what had happened." He paused, as if debating whether or not to go on. "Official cause of death hasn't been determined yet. But, upon first examination it is believed that a stab wound to the abdomen is what killed him."

Darry felt cold. It was a fate that had taken down many Greasers over the years. The place where they found the body was right near where Soda was last seen. It added up. And that fact crushed Darry beyond what words could describe, threatening to completely destroy him.

The doctor turned in order to look at Darry fully.

"I want you to take your time in there," the doctor told him. Darry was only half listening. He had heard this speech before. "We'll go in, but I won't lift the sheet until you tell me you're ready. I do need you to take a really good look when I lift the sheet though. We need to you to be absolutely sure of your identification."

Words failed Darry at that point, so all he could do was nod. He felt numb as he followed the doctor into the room. Anything around him faded into the background as he immediately focused on the metal table in the middle the room. There was a figure lying on the table, completely still, covered by a white sheet.

Last time there had been two tables, sitting side by side in this very room. Two figures that had been covered by white sheets. Two figures that Darry had immediately recognized when the sheets were pulled aside.

Darry froze in the doorway, feeling as if a hole was tearing its way open in the middle of his chest. The doctor moved to the far side of the table, waiting patiently for Darry to compose himself. Darry had to force himself to take a step forward. Then another. Then a third. He couldn't just stand there forever. He had to get this over with so that he could get back upstairs to Ponyboy. He still had one little brother left to worry about, and it was his job to take care of him. With that thought, Darry was able to push aside his own feelings about what was about to happen. It was like plugging up a hole in a dam with cotton balls, but for now it worked.

He met the doctor's eyes, making sure he was looking right at him as he nodded, signaling to remove the sheet. There was no preparing himself for what he was going to see, he could only continue moving forward and hope that there was something left of him when all of this was over.

Calmly, the doctor reached up to one end of the table and carefully pulled the sheet back. A head was revealed, followed by the upper part of a torso and a pair of biceps. The doctor placed the sheet down, leaving the bottom half of the body covered, and then waited.

Darry stared. For a moment, he was unable to focus, his mind not quite able to comprehend was what right in front of him. The wounds were the first thing he was able to really register. He had obviously been in a fight. There was a split on his lip, bruises on his cheek and jaw. Darry's eyes wandered and saw there were more bruises on his chest, along with a few shallow cuts. His eyes were drawn to a deeper wound on the left side of his lower abdomen, a few inches wide. It had obviously been cleaned up, but it was still strange how such a small thing could kill a person.

"Mr. Curtis," the doctor prompted Darry, reminding him of the task at hand.

He focused back on the face, taking in features that he should have known better than his own. For a moment, he thought he might collapse under the weight of his despair. He took in the hair that should have been slicked back by grease, the slight tan to his skin from working outside part of the time… but something wasn't quite adding up. Something was wrong with the shape of his eyes, the strange angle of his nose. He stared, finding it hard to breathe as he catalogued these differences over and over.

He gasped suddenly, as if he were surfacing from being underwater. "It's not him," he said quietly, almost as if he were speaking only to himself.

The doctor stepped closer. "What's that?" he asked.

Darry looked up at him and shook his head. "It's not him." He should be relieved. He should be dropping to his knees and thanking any deity that might be watching over him that his brother wasn't the one lying dead in the morgue. But if anything, his anxiety was growing worse as the world suddenly seemed unsteady around him.

"You're sure?" the doctor said.

Darry looked back down at the boy that lay on the table. He could see how the connection had been made between Soda's description and this boy's appearance. They appeared to be around the same age with similar builds and even pretty much the same colored hair. Darry wondered if perhaps they had the same eye color as well, he couldn't tell with this boy's eyes closed. But taking in the rest of his features, there was no doubt in Darry's mind.

"Yes," he said, his voice oddly strained. Where was the relief? Shouldn't he feel some sort of release from these feelings that were threatening to crush him? "I'm sure. It's not him. I don't know who this is."

The doctor nodded solemnly. He reached down and pulled the sheet back over the boy's body, covering him and hiding him from the world once more. Darry found that he could not stop staring, even when the John Doe was completely covered once more.

"Thank you for your help," the doctor said. "I am sorry we had to put you through that, but it is helpful in trying to figure out who this is."

Darry nodded, his gaze still on the sheet in front of him. He found himself wondering who this was. Did he have a family? Was his family desperately searching for him, just like they searched for Soda? Had they been up countless nights, wondering what happened to him and if he would ever make his way back home?

Before he really knew what he was doing, he was making his way out of the room and back down the hallway. He couldn't bring himself to wait for the elevator and instead stumbled upon a stairwell that he climbed back up to the ground level. He thought that being above ground would help him breathe easier, but if anything his breathing was becoming even more shallow.

As he reappeared in the emergency waiting room, he saw that the gang was pretty much right where he had left them, hovering awkwardly by the door. He must have looked a wreck, judging by the looks the others gave him.

They saw him and they assumed the worst.

Devastation flashed across all three of their faces. Tears were already flowing freely down Pony's cheeks. He knew he should assure them, tell them that Sodapop hadn't been the one in the morgue, that it had all been a misunderstanding. He needed to comfort them, tell them what was going on, and assure them that there was still hope. But any words he might have said died before they reached his throat.

Something was cracking within him. His strong façade was crumbling as he was assaulted with images. He could see that boy from the morgue in painful detail. He could see both of his parents lying on tables just like the one he had just seen. Their conditions had been much more gruesome, an image that still haunted his nightmares on the nights he wasn't too tired to dream.

And something within him finally broke. No, it didn't just break... it completely shattered.

He had to push past Steve in order to make it out the door. He didn't know where he was going; he just needed to get out of there. He was in no fit state to drive, so instead he headed around the side of the hospital, away from prying eyes. When his knees gave out, they found grass. He was in a field next to the hospital.

Everything came crashing down on him. He knew how easily that could have been Soda, lying dead in the morgue. It still could happen. How would he survive that? How would any of them survive that? Or worse, what if he was never found? What if they never found out what happened to him and he's simply gone forever?

He cried out as if he was in physical pain. He curled in on himself as if he could keep himself from falling apart. But it didn't help. He had been strong for too long, and now that the dam had broken all of the feelings he had been holding back since they first realized that Soda was missing came flooding out with a vengeance. Tears were rushing down his cheeks as he gasped desperately for breath. He was twenty-one years old, guardian to two teenaged boys, and here he knelt, bawling like a baby.

"Darry?" Darry wasn't sure how long he had been out there before he heard Two-Bit's voice nearby. "Darry, it's gonna be okay. We're gonna get through this. I dunno how, but we are."

Finally, with a great effort, Darry managed to tear the words out of his throat. "It wasn't him."

There was a long pause.

"What?" This time it was Steve's voice.

Darry looked up. All three of them had found their way out to him. Two-Bit was gripping Pony's shoulder, giving him support and seemingly keeping him on his feet. Steve stood a few steps back from them. They were all staring at Darry with shocked looks on their faces.

"It… it wasn't him. The John Doe. Down in the morgue. It was some other kid. It wasn't him." The words came tumbling out of his mouth in strange fragments.

There was a long pause as Steve, Two-Bit and Pony all seemed to struggle to process this.

"Then what's with all this?" Steve demanded, waving his hand as if to gesture to Darry's entire being. He looked angry and confused, but Darry really couldn't blame him. He knew he must have given them quite a scare.

"I just… I c-can't…" Darry stammered, unable to put into words what he was feeling. He felt horribly embarrassed. He had hoped that his self-destruction wouldn't be witness by anyone, least of all the ones who looked up to him. He averted his gaze as he wiped impatiently at his eyes. "Sorry guys," he said quietly, trying desperately to pull himself together.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and was surprised to see that it was Ponyboy who had approached him, now crouching down next to him.

"It's okay, Darry," Pony said quietly. "You don't always have to be the strong one."

Darry swallowed. "C'mere Pony," he said. Pony knelt on the grass next to him and Darry wrapped an arm around him, pulling him into a hug. "Thank you."

They stayed like that for a long while, just quietly sharing in each other's company. Even Two-Bit and Steve joined them in sitting on the ground. No one said anything. There was nothing that could be said. There were no words that would bring comfort and no more theories to be discussed. They were left with nothing to hold onto but each other's presence. So they clung to that like a life raft.

They were no closer to getting any answers on what had happened to Soda. And there was a chance that they would never get any answers. It was the worst kind of torture to have family ripped away from them once again.

More than anything… he just wanted this nightmare to end. One way or another, he just wanted this to be over so that they could start rebuilding their lives.

If that was even going to be possible.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Well, there it is. I really struggled with Darry's slow decent into his breakdown. Let me know what you think of it. I know it's so mean that there aren't any answers yet… but now you know how Darry and the others feel! Haha. I'm hoping the next couple chapters won't take as long. I had some of the next chapter already written and most of the following chapter written.

Special shout out to YaHawana, Greaserthings, Pony'sgirlfriend, BunnyluvsU, cookieswafflesandfanfic, MiniHorseMeadow, Terry, LexiMoonshine, FrankElza, Arsosah, ItsAHopeForAllTheHopeless, FireGoddess101 as well as all of the Guests for reviewing the last chapter. I was overwhelmed by the sheer number, thank you very much for your support! You all are the best!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Honestly, Darry didn't remember much of the ride home. Or much from the rest of that day for that matter. He felt like he was in a fog. The shock of the whole morning had really gotten to him. He had been so sure they were about to get answers, that this was about to be over even though the outcome was going to be simply heartbreaking. To have that snatched away from him so unexpectedly was harder on him than he thought it was going to be.

As it turned out, Darry had a breaking point. And it would seem that he had reached it.

It was so difficult to be strong all the time. Darry had ignored his feelings for so long as he focused on being strong for everyone else, that when there was one small crack in the armor that surrounded him, everything had just come crashing down. The timing had been so odd, since he should have just been relieved that it wasn't his brother laying in the morgue. He knew that his reaction made no sense but he just couldn't really put into words what had happened. Something in him had simply broken. It definitely was not one of his proudest moments.

Feeling embarrassed by the outburst, Darry isolated himself from the rest of the gang for most of that day. He sat on the steps of the porch, staring vacantly out at the street as if Soda would come walking up at any minute, laughing and rationally explaining that he had gotten held up somewhere.

As they were passing the three day mark since Soda was last seen, that fantasy was become more and more unlikely.

The gang didn't talk much that night. They had all been rattled by what had happened. Steve and Two-Bit went out that evening to scour the neighborhood yet again and check in with Tim Shepard to see if his gang had found anything. Darry got a phone call late that night from Two-Bit, letting him know that their search hadn't turned up anything. Judging by the noise in the background, Darry guessed that they were at the roadhouse. He honestly couldn't blame them for wanting to blow off a little steam.

They didn't come back to the house that night.

Darry and Pony spent the night in the living room again, with Darry in the recliner and Pony sprawled out on the couch. Both of them drifted in and out of consciousness, neither getting much in the way of any real sleep. This had become their routine over the past couple nights, but Darry couldn't help but wonder how much longer they could keep this up. At what point do they try and move on with their lives? But just having this thought made him feel horribly guilty.

The morning felt surreal. The sun was rising and they still had no idea what had happened to Sodapop. It seemed like something in the world was just out to get them.

It was only out of necessity that Darry dragged himself out of the recliner that morning. After using the bathroom, he wandered into the kitchen. It wasn't that he was hungry really; he just felt the need to do something, anything in an attempt to have some semblance of normalcy.

Darry heard when Pony finally got up and wandered down the hallway. He didn't think much of it when he didn't immediately reappear after he heard the toilet flush down the hall. He went about starting a pot of coffee, which was the only thing he thought that he might be able to stomach right now. He wasn't even sure he would attempt to make anything else for breakfast this morning. He had a feeling Pony wouldn't be very hungry either.

Maybe today they could just take a break. Take a break from trying to pretend anything was normal. Take a break from trying to pretend any of this was okay. Stop living their lives for just one day and just let everything go for a while.

But a question burned within him: if they stopped living their lives, would they ever find it in them to start again?

He heard Pony enter the room, but didn't look up immediately, concentrating a little more than was necessary on pouring himself a cup of coffee. He thought it was odd when he noticed that Pony hadn't seemed to come fully into the kitchen, and instead seemed to be hovering in the doorway. Finally, he looked up, a little surprised at what he saw. Darry looked Pony up and down. He had clearly washed up as well as changed out of the clothes he had been wearing since yesterday, but more than that he had put on one of his nicer pair of jeans and a nice shirt that he hardly ever wore. Darry raised an eyebrow at him.

"You goin' somewhere?" he asked.

Pony shifted uncomfortably, seemingly unable to meet Darry's eyes. "Yeah. I… I thought I'd…"

"It's okay, Pony," Darry told him, trying to ease the poor kid's nerves. He had been through a lot over the past couple days and he didn't want him to stress himself out even more just trying to tell him something. "You can tell me."

"I thought I'd go to church," Pony said quickly, his words practically slurring together. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet. "I know we ain't got a car right now, but I could walk. It's not that far."

Darry was taken aback by this. He wasn't really sure what he had been expecting, but he did know that it hadn't been this. However, when he stopped and thought about it, he supposed that it did makes sense. He suddenly remembered that Pony used to like going to church, in fact he used to go all the time with Johnny. Even before that, Pony used to go with their mother quite a bit. Darry himself had never been all that religious. He didn't have much in the way of faith in something that he couldn't see. He had gone to church when he was little and his mother used to take the three of them – their father was usually working on Sundays. But when Darry had gotten older he had opted to spend the weekends hanging out with his friends instead. Soda had made a similar choice when he was old enough, but he had never fared well with sitting still in church anyway. Their mother would still make them all go for holidays, but other than that, Darry hadn't been to church in years.

Even so, over the past year, Darry had often found comfort in the idea that perhaps their parents were looking down on them, watching out for them in some way.

Darry tried to word his next question as delicately as he could, not wanting Pony to misread his meaning. "Why do you want to go to church?" It seemed odd to Darry that today of all days he had up and decided to attend a service. He knew he hadn't been to church since before Johnny had died.

Pony chewed on his lip as he shrugged. "I think it might be… comforting?" His tone made the statement sound more like a question.

"I'm not saying that it's a bad thing you want to go," Darry clarified. "I'm just… curious. What is it about church you find comforting?"

Pony looked up at him in surprise. Clearly he hadn't been expecting this level of questioning on the topic. They had never really discussed religion before this moment. He took a moment as if organizing his thoughts before he spoke again.

"It's just comforting to think that maybe something out there has control over our crazy lives," he said quietly. "Like maybe there is some sort of reason or plan. Like we're not going through all of this for nothin'." He paused and took a deep breath. "I like thinking that maybe someone is looking over Soda. Like maybe there is some higher power that can still bring him back to us. Some way that we can get some kinda miracle or somethin'… just this once."

Darry took a moment to absorb this. He felt like this was the most open that Pony had ever been with him.

"Would… would you mind if I tagged along?" Darry asked carefully.

Pony raised his eyebrows at him at that. "To church?" he said as if it wasn't obvious.

"Yeah," Darry said awkwardly. "If you don't mind."

Pony looked taken off guard by this new development and it took him a minute to seem to come up with an answer. "Uh, no of course I don't," he stammered. "Yeah, you can come."

Darry glanced at his watch, relieved to find that he still had some time to look presentable. "Just give me ten minutes. Then we can walk over."

Darry struggled with finding something halfway decent to wear, suddenly realizing that they were several days late doing the laundry. Honestly, the thought of doing laundry hadn't even crossed his mind in the past couple days. Finally, he pulled on a pair of clean jeans and a clean t-shirt, figuring it would be good enough. He then went to the bathroom and shaved – realizing that he was several days overdue for a good shave as well – and washed up.

He emerged to find Pony waiting for him in the living room, shifting from foot to foot a bit impatiently. Darry took the time to write out a note to Two-Bit and Steve, explaining where they had gone. This was something he never would have thought of to do in the past, as they were all pretty used to doing their own thing and tended to keep each other informed simply by word of mouth. But now he was much more aware of the importance of making sure others knew where you were.

Darry and Pony quietly headed out of the house.

Darry felt a little awkward as they walked. He couldn't help but wonder what Pony really thought of him wanting to accompany him to church. He also felt a bit like he was intruding on something that was very personal to his youngest brother. All in all, it was a very strange situation to find himself in.

But when Pony had talked about how going to church could be comforting to him, Darry couldn't help but ask if he could come along. He could really use something comforting right now. If nothing else, perhaps it could bring back memories of years ago when they were a whole and happy family. Maybe he could find some comfort in that.

The church was farther away than he remembered it being. They got there a bit late, but Darry liked that they could just slip into the back pew without attracting too much attention. They didn't exactly blend in with the middle class people who filled the rest of the pews.

The service was nice, Darry could certainly admit that. The music was nice and the psalms and readings all had a soothing quality to them. Neither Darry nor Pony ended up going up for communion, mostly because neither of them felt comfortable going up to the front of the church in front of everyone.

Some of the tension had drained from Darry, but he still didn't feel very comfortable sitting in the church. He found that he kept checking his watch, feeling a little anxious to get out of there. He was starting to wonder if it had been really worth it to walk all the way out there for the service. Then the pastor got up to do his sermon. Darry was surprised to see that it was the same pastor from when he was little, though these days it was obvious that he was getting on in age as he leaned heavily on the podium.

"Today I would like to continue on our past themes," the pastor said, gazing over his congregation with a contented smile. "For those who are just joining us this Sunday, we've been talking about saints these past couple weeks. Today, I feel compelled to talk on the subject of Saint Christopher." At this, Darry sat up, his attention suddenly much more attune than it had been a minute ago.

The pastor went on. "Saint Christopher was a powerfully built man who wandered the world in search of novelty and adventure. One day, he came upon a hermit who lived beside a dangerous stream and served others by guiding them to safe places to cross. He gave Saint Christopher instruction in the truth of God. Inspired, Saint Christopher took the hermit's place, but instead of simply guiding travellers, he took it upon himself to carry them safely across the stream.

"One day, he carried a small child across the stream; something that he had done many times before without incident. But that day, the child's weight nearly crushed him. But despite that, Saint Christopher struggled on, determined to see both of them safely to the other side. When they arrived on the other side, the child revealed himself as Christ, and he was so heavy because he bore the weight of the world on himself. He then baptized Saint Christopher with water from the stream.

"Today, we recognize Saint Christopher as the patron saint of travel and travellers. Many will pray to Saint Christopher for safe travels for them and for loved ones. Let us embrace that. Let us pray for God's children in their day to day travels and pray that those who travel will find their way back home again."

There was more to the sermon, but Darry wasn't really listening anymore. It was so strange that of all the patron saints that the pastor could talk about, he picked today of all days to speak of the patron saint of safe travels. It was one saint that Darry actually knew. He remembered very suddenly that Dally used to wear a pendant with the image of Saint Christopher on it.

Darry closed his eyes, folding his hands together in his lap. _Please… please help Soda find his way home. Please watch over him and keep him safe, wherever he is._ The words came so naturally. He didn't even recall making the decision to pray.

The rest of the service passed rather quickly. Soon enough, the congregation was dismissed. Darry and Pony both managed to slip out of the church quickly, neither of them in the mood to interact with any of the other churchgoers. They were quiet for a while as they walked in the direction of home. In fact, they were halfway home before Pony broke the silence.

"What did you think?" he asked carefully.

"Very… appropriate," Darry said slowly, thinking over his choice of words carefully. He wasn't really convinced that was the right word, but that was as close as he could get. "Do you… do you know what happened to Dally's Saint Christopher pendant?" He knew that Pony had Dally's jacket still, but he didn't think he had anything else of his.

Pony shook his head. "I dunno. He was… I mean he musta been wearing it when… you know… when he…"

"Yeah," Darry said flatly, saving Pony from having to actually say the words.

Darry wondered if the pendant had actually meant anything to Dally. Darry could distinctly remember the way that Dally used to light matches off of the pendant in order to light his cigarettes. But even so, knowing the full backstory of the patron saint, it did seem like a big coincidence what that pendant actually represented, whether Dally actually believed in it or not.

They fell into silence again as they continued to walk along the side of the road. As the house came into view, Darry immediately spotted Two-Bit's car sitting on the curve. Him and Steve must have returned while they were out.

It was a very strange atmosphere as Darry and Pony walked into the house. Two-Bit was sprawled on the couch, one foot up on the coffee table and his arms thrown out over the back of the couch. Steve was standing by the front window, looking out across the front lawn, his arms crossed over his chest. Both the television and the radio were off, making the house unnaturally quiet.

Clearly they had found his note, as they weren't questioned as they walked into the house. There were no comments made about where they had chosen to go this morning either. Under different circumstances, he knew that comments would be made – probably along with some good-natured ribbing – about how they had decided out of the blue to go to church. But today it seemed to be accepted that they were all acting a little out of character with everything that had happened.

In turn, neither Pony nor Darry questioned Steve or Two-Bit on their whereabouts the night before, or if their search had turned up anything. It was understood that such questions were pretty meaningless at this point. If there were anything to report, it would be offered up willingly.

"Hey Two-Bit… can I borrow your car?" It was strange, but the words were out of Darry's mouth before he had really made the conscious decision to make the request.

"Sure," Two-Bit said easily. "Where you goin'?"

Darry shrugged. "I just want to drive around a bit."

Two-Bit dug his keys out of his pocket and tossed them over to Darry. Darry caught them.

"You want me to go with you?" Two-Bit asked.

Darry shook his head. "No, that's okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Darry answered. "I just… need to clear my head for a while."

"You won't be too long, will you?" Pony asked suddenly.

Darry gave what he hoped to be a reassuring smile. "No I won't. I promise."

He headed out of the house. He knew going out on his own went against what they should have learned from this whole ordeal. Suddenly, he was breaking their newfound cardinal rule that there was safety in numbers. But for some reason, his gut was telling him that this was the right thing to do. He could give the others a break as they could take comfort in the idea that someone they knew was out looking for Soda and more than that, he could give himself a break from having to be strong in front of watchful eyes.

He didn't have a lot of hope as he climbed into Two-Bit's car. After all, it felt like he had covered the entire city at least half a dozen times already in the past three and a half days. But if this was the only thing he could do to feel useful, he'd do it every day for years to come.

He would do anything to be able to bring his wayward traveler home.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** What did you guys think? I struggled a bit with the pastor's sermon, which was really outside the box for me. I've only ever been a mildly religious person, so writing a sermon was a really daunting task. But it was important to Pony's character, so I hope that I did it some justice.

Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me through this! I promise, answers are coming!

Also, to those in the U.S. have a happy and safe Thanksgiving!


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** So sorry this took so long guys! I was hoping to have it out sooner, but i agonized over this chapter trying to get it just right. Hope you like it!

* * *

 **Chapter Nine**

Darry wasn't real sure where he was going and he really had no destination in mind. Without really making a conscious decision, he ended up on the road where the drag race had taken place. He pulled over to the side of the road near where he knew the spectators had parked their cars. This was the last place anyone had seen Soda.

Darry got out of the car and carefully surveyed the open field. It had a very eerie feeling to it, though he couldn't quite put into words what really made him feel unsettled. The area was quiet, but the quiet almost seemed unnatural somehow. No wind blew and no birds chirped. It was like all the life had been sucked out of this place.

He took a short walk around the empty field. The grass was still crushed in places where cars had been parked. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but he really hadn't expected to find anything anyway.

He didn't stay long. After walking around for only a few minutes, he headed back for the car parked on the side of the road. He climbed into the driver's seat but then hesitated as he studied the road.

"Sodapop Patrick Curtis," Darry mumbled to himself. "Where the hell did you go from here?"

Assuming that Soda had made it to the truck – something that wasn't even guaranteed – Darry tried to put himself into his brother's shoes. Where would he have gone? Steve had said that he had seemed tired after working a double shift that day. He would have wanted to take the quickest route back home… wouldn't he?

Suddenly, something popped into his head. When Soda really overworked himself, he was prone to getting migraines that seemed to be triggered by his stress and exhaustion. It had been a long time since the last time that happened, so Darry really hadn't thought of it before this moment. When the migraines got bad enough to keep him home from work, Soda was known to stay in his room all day with the lights off and the curtains drawn, often pulling the covers over his head for good measure if it wasn't too hot out.

That was because Soda's migraines made him very sensitive to light.

As Darry sat there, he tried to picture what this currently deserted area would look like with the drag races going on. Most of the action would be going on in front of him. That meant a lot of headlights would be going every which direction with cars going up and down the road for the races and more spectators coming and going into the makeshift parking lot. If Soda was feeling sensitive to light, those headlights were going to put him off immediately.

Darry turned in his seat, looking back behind him. What if Soda had been more concerned with getting away from all of the activity than he was with getting home quickly?

Latching onto that thought, Darry started up the car and then quickly executed a U-turn. Rather than turning immediately to get to the fastest route home, he continued to head up the road. It probably would have been darker with much less activity up this direction. It was a very roundabout way to get home, but Darry could see Soda thinking that this way was going to cause him the least amount of pain.

Now, this was not a route that they had not already driven. Over the last couple days, they had covered virtually every inch of the city as they had driven every possible route between the drag race and the house, no matter how unlikely. So this didn't feel like some big revelation or any kind of breakthrough to Darry. Really, it simply felt like a passing thought that he decided to follow for a while in order to distract himself from the fact that no progress had been made in locating Soda in days. Nothing more than that.

There were several roads that Soda could have turned down that would have circled him back toward the house if he had indeed come out this direction. Darry passed several of these roads, following the road he was on out farther toward the country. Then, very arbitrarily, he turned down another road. Out this far from the city, the roads were all pretty deserted. He took his time as he drove, his eyes continuously wandering off to the sides of the road. There were no businesses out this way, only trees lining the road.

Darry wasn't sure what possessed him to stop. He would think back on this moment often in the future, and he had no answers as to why he stepped on the brake, slowing the car until it came to a stop in the middle of the road. There were no indications that anything was amiss. Despite that, it felt like a cold stone of dread had fallen into the pit of his stomach. He looked around at his surroundings. There were no cars coming up or down this road. The trees had retreated back a good twenty feet or so, making this spot feel less closed in. But there was no logical reason for what he did next, only gut instinct.

He stepped on the gas again, but this time only enough to ease the car off to the side of the road in case anybody did come along. Then he put the car in park and carefully climbed out. He looked around. At first, nothing looked out of the ordinary. He saw skid marks on the road, but that wasn't unusual. Then he noticed the way the grass just off the road was torn up as if someone drove through it. He walked forward, feeling a bit like he was in some kind of trance. He stopped at the edge of the road and looked around, not at all sure what he was looking for.

Then he saw it. All at once he saw it.

It was a decent ways off of the road and down in a ditch, half hidden by a tree branch that had fallen on top of it, the green of the truck blending in with the green of the leaves, which is how they kept on missing it anytime they had driven down this road. But now Darry was looking right at it. It was the truck. He almost forgot to breathe. After all this time he had found it. He could hardly believe that his desperate mind wasn't just playing tricks on him.

He wasn't sure how long he had stood there before he was moving forward. Everything had seemed normal from the angle that he had been standing. But as he moved, he quickly saw that the truck was mangled. He felt lightheaded but he didn't stop moving toward the scene, taking in more details as they were revealed. The front of the truck was smashed in and the driver's side door was crushed into a tree. He couldn't yet see if there was anyone inside. He suddenly stopped in his tracks. Was he really prepared for what he might find in there? Was he strong enough for this? Maybe he should just run and go get help…

Even as the thought occurred to him though, he knew he couldn't do that. He couldn't leave until he knew if his brother was still inside. He had to see this through… even if it destroyed him.

He took a deep breath and took a step forward. Then another. He suddenly felt detached from the whole situation, as if he were watching it from some faraway place. And deep down he knew what he was going to find as he approached the truck. Or at least he thought he knew…

He had to shift the leaves on the tree branch aside to try and peer into the passenger's side window of the truck. He stomach fell. There was definitely a figure inside. He closed his eyes to try and compose himself but he was finding that it was getting harder to breathe, almost as if the entire world was pushing in on him with the intent to crush him. He had to see this through to the end though.

Darry reached up and pulled on the tree branch. It was still partially attached to the tree that the truck had hit. It took him several tries before he was able to pull the branch free and toss it down to the ground.

Slowly, he looked back at the now unobstructed truck. Sodapop sat in the driver's seat, eyes closed and not moving. He was half slumped over away from the tree the truck had collided with, his right arm reaching out toward the passenger's seat. Darry felt like the world was suddenly falling out from under him, leaving a void in its wake. This was his kid brother. What had any of them ever done to deserve this?

Then, something miraculous happened. As Darry was staring, Soda's head shifted. It was a very small movement that Darry may have imagined but it fueled a spark of hope. Was it possible Soda was still alive after being trapped in this ditch for over three days?

Darry tried the door to find that it was locked, but now his adrenaline was pumping. He had to get to his brother. Quickly, he slipped out of his jacket and put it up against the window. He wound up and punched the window through his jacket as hard as he possibly could. His fist bounced off without much effect. Without hesitating or comprehending the pain in his hand, he wound up and struck out at the window again. This time as his fist connected there was a satisfying cracking noise. On the third attempt the glass finally shattered away, with his jacket protecting his fist from any major damage from the shards of glass.

He tossed the jacket to the ground and reached through the emptied window to unlock the door. But as he pulled on the handle again, the door still wouldn't budge. He looked around confused and then saw that the frame of the truck had bent, which was causing the door to jam. As he yanked on the handle trying to pull it free, the truck shook. At the motion, Soda's head shifted again and Darry thought he saw his eye lids flutter briefly. This only fueled his desperation. He pulled hard on the handle and the emptied window and managed to inch the door outwards enough to get his hand through the gap. The metal groaned in protest as he inched it out little by little. The more progress he made the more strength he seemed to gain. Finally, he had made a gap wide enough for him to slip inside of the truck.

"Soda!" Darry cried desperately as he climbed up in to the passenger's seat.

He took in his little brother's condition. He was pale as a sheet and his eye lids were tinted an unnatural blue color. His lips were cracked and bloody. Darry tried to look for obvious signs injuries. As he got closer he noticed a stain of red on his chin. He reached over and carefully tilted Soda's head to get a better look at his face. He gave a visible start at what he found. The left side of Soda's face was stained with so much blood that Darry couldn't tell where it had come from.

"Soda… Sodapop… please wake up, little buddy… _please_ …" Darry begged, his voice shaking with his barely contained hysterics. He couldn't be…

Soda's head shifted in Darry's cupped hands. Darry's heart jumped up into his throat at this sign of life. In what seemed like slow motion, his eyelids opened slightly and then slid closed again.

"C'mon, Soda," Darry encouraged, feeling hopeful for the first time in days.

Slowly, Soda's eyes opened again. They seemed to take a minute to really focus on him. "Darry?" His voice was hoarse and seemed to drag painfully out of his throat.

Darry coughed a laugh even though the situation was far from funny. "It's okay, it's okay now Soda. I'm here, I've gotcha. I'm gonna get you outta here."

"'M stuck, Dar," Soda moaned, sounding very young. His eyes kept on sliding passed him, as if he couldn't quite focus on what was right in front of him.

Darry wasn't sure what he meant by that. And then he looked down and his stomach dropped. It was suddenly painfully clear why Soda hadn't been able to get himself out of the truck after the crash. The steering wheel and dashboard had been shoved forward and downward by the disfigurement of the truck, pinning him solidly in place. From what Darry could see, Soda's jeans were stained with blood from where he had struggled to free himself.

Darry froze, unsure what to do. Should he leave and go get help? He didn't like the idea of just leaving Soda here. He suddenly wished that Steve was here; he'd be able to take care of this in minutes.

"Dar…" Soda murmured so quietly, it was barely more than a whisper on his exhaled breath as his head fell to one side and his eyes slid shut.

"No, no, no," Darry sputtered frantically, tightening his hold on Soda's chin. "Stay with me Soda. Please. Open your eyes. Sodapop?"

Soda's head shifted weakly in Darry's hands, though his eyes did not open again. Darry's heart was pounding as he realized that they were running out of time. He dropped his gaze to access the situation at hand. He reached out and put pressure on the mangled dash in an attempt to push it away from Soda. It didn't move, not even slightly. Darry took a breath, trying to control his rising panic as he tried to think of another way around this. He shifted around and looped a hand around Soda's opposite hip. As he put pressure on his brother in an attempt to slide him out from under the dashboard Soda suddenly gasped and moaned in pain and Darry immediately stopped.

"Sorry, sorry," Darry mumbled even though he wasn't real sure if Soda could hear him.

He took a moment to look over the situation again, but he knew there was only one thing that he could do. And he hated it with every fiber of his being.

"Sodapop, just hang in there okay?" Darry said gently. "Please."

He knew that if he lingered and said everything that was on his mind, he would never do what had to be done. He told himself that there would be time for more words later… and he did his best to actually believe that.

It was one of the hardest things he had ever done when he turned away from his injured brother. His entire body felt heavy with the weight of what was happening as he maneuvered his way back out of the truck. He felt an unnatural chill in the air as he sprinted back up to the road. And he felt sick to his stomach as he climbed into the car, shifted it into drive and drove away.

How he got home was a blur to him. He did know that he made record time though. Just over five minutes after he left his injured and possibly dying brother he was running up the front walk and bursting into the living room. Both Steve and Two-Bit looked up at him in surprise.

"Darry?" Steve said, looking at him strangely. Darry wondered vaguely if he looked as deranged as he felt.

He quickly scanned the living room. "Where's Pony?"

"He just went to take a leak," Two-Bit said as he stood up and approached Darry. "Darry, what's goin' on?"

Darry grabbed Two-Bit's shoulder with one hand – probably a bit harder than he had meant to, judging by his expression – and looked his friend in the eye. "Listen to me. Call an ambulance and send it to Route 66 between Norwood and Sheridan. Tell them there's been a car accident."

Two-Bit's eyes widened. "You found him," he said, shock in his voice.

Darry went on as if Two-Bit hadn't spoken. "Then I want you to take Pony and get yourselves to the hospital."

"But shouldn't we—"

"Under no circumstances are you to take Ponyboy up to Route 66, you understand me?" Darry snapped, his eyes burning with how deadly serious he was. Pony could not see what he had just seen. "You take him to the hospital and you wait with him there. If you so much as drive by Route 66, so help me I'll whip you within an inch of your life Two-Bit Matthews."

"Okay, okay," Two-Bit assured him, backing up out of his grip. There was something unsettled about this tone though. "I get it." He turned and went for the phone.

Darry shifted his gaze to Steve, who had stood up from the couch but seemed frozen in place as he had silently watched the exchange. "Steve, you're comin' with me," Darry stated. Then, without another word, he turned and hurried back out the door.

Without a backwards glance to make sure Steve was coming, Darry grabbed his toolbox from where it sat on the porch and jogged back down the walk to where he had left the car. As he opened the door to the backseat and tossed the toolbox in, he saw Steve hurrying around to climb into the passenger's seat. Darry felt relieved that he hadn't frozen. There was no time to waste and if he hadn't followed him then Darry wasn't going to wait for him.

Darry climbed into the driver's seat and a second later they were taking off. As he was speeding up the road, he stole a glance over at Steve. He was pale as he stared determinedly straight ahead, his mouth set in a thin line. Darry felt bad for having to put Soda's best friend through this, but he didn't have much of a choice. Steve was the best with cars and Darry knew that he had the best chance of being able to figure out how to free Soda.

They had been driving for several minutes before Steve finally spoke.

"How bad is it?" Steve's voice was flat and void of emotion. He didn't as much as glance in Darry's direction.

"It's bad," was all Darry could manage.

Finally, Steve looked over at him. At a glance, a person might think his eyes were hard and unfeeling. But Darry knew him well enough to know what kind of emotion that look hid. "Is he…"

"He's still alive," Darry supplied, not needing Steve to finish the question. _At least he was when I left him,_ he couldn't help but add silently. He stepped down harder on the accelerator, the engine groaning with the effort of shifting up to the next gear.

Darry couldn't put into words how he found the right spot again. Even knowing what he was looking for this time, it was still hard to see the truck from the road. But somehow he just knew, pulling the car over to the side of the road before he recognized the skid marks and torn up grass.

Up until that point, Steve had seemed to be moving in slow motion. But as he spotted the truck, it was like he was emerging from a fog with an air of fierce determination. He was out of the car before Darry had even put it into park, skidding down into the ditch in his haste. Darry paused long enough to grab the toolbox out of the backseat before following.

By the time he made it down to the truck, Steve had already slid up into the cab, seeming to have an easier time of it than Darry had, as he was leaner and could better fit through the gap between the bent door and the rest of the truck.

"Soda? Sodapop?" Steve was desperately calling.

"Check his pulse," Darry told him as he hovered by the door, looking in through the empty window. Soda looked the same as when he had left him maybe ten minutes before, but it was unnerving how still he was.

He watched as Steve reached up and placed two fingers on the side of Soda's neck.

"He's alive," Steve said quietly, sounding a bit surprised.

"Can you figure out how to get him out of there?" Darry asked urgently, trying to focus them on the task at hand. "He's wedged in there really good."

Steve swallowed and the looked down. For a minute he didn't move or speak, just studied what was in front of him with a calculating look as Darry shifted impatiently from foot to foot.

"I need a flathead screwdriver and a wrench," Steve finally said, holding out his hand but not looking away from the mangled mess in front of him.

Darry put the toolbox down on the ground and quickly dug out the requested tools, handing them over to Steve through the empty window. With more concentration than Darry had ever seen from him, Steve went to work.

As he worked, Darry's eyes drifted back to Soda. He couldn't even imagine the pain he had gone through, trapped here like this for days. He had visibly lost weight, most noticeably in the way his cheekbones now protruded in a way they hadn't before.

He was quickly brought back to reality just a few minutes later as Steve handed him the now disconnected steering wheel through the window. Darry leaned over, trying to see what Steve was working on, but his body blocked what was going on in the small cab. A minute later he was handing pieces of the dashboard through the window. Clearly he was trying to strip away everything possible in an attempt to free Soda.

Then he did something strange. He turned and drove the screwdriver into the seat next to where Soda sat. Darry didn't dare question him as he tore away at the upholstery; clearly Steve was on a mission. It wasn't until he started yanking out fistfuls of the stuffing from inside of the seat that Darry realized what he was doing. Darry looked over top of him and was able to see that even after stripping away most of the plastic from the dashboard, there was still part of the metal frame pushing down on Soda's legs. Steve was trying to lower him down by removing what was underneath him rather than try and mess with the metal that was still pinning him down.

"Can you get the door open any further?" Steve said as he worked.

Darry immediately slid his body between the frame of the truck and the door. Pushing his back up against the frame for leverage, he used his arms and one of his knees to muscle the door further out, until the door was bent into a more open position.

He was only vaguely aware of the soft wail of sirens approaching from a distance.

"Okay, let's get 'im the hell outta here," Steve said tensely.

Relief washed over Darry. It had taken Steve less than five minutes to find a way to free Soda. Darry was convinced that was far faster than any paramedic would have been able to. He turned to take in the scene. At a glance, Soda still appeared to be unconscious. Darry couldn't find it in him to take in the rest of his condition. If he did, he knew that he would freeze and wouldn't be able to do what needed to be done.

Steve was climbing between Soda and the now disassembled dashboard to get a better angle. As he did this, Darry climbed up into the passenger's seat.

"Oh, shit," Steve mumbled.

Darry didn't have the willpower to try and figure out what Steve had seen. "C'mon," he urged. The scream of sirens was getting closer. "The ambulance is probably almost here."

That snapped Steve back into action. Working together, they began to slide Soda across the seat, closer to the open passenger's side door. In the process, Soda began to stir. At first, Darry felt relieved that Soda was showing some obvious evidence of life. He groaned lightly, like he was being awoken unwillingly from a deep sleep. His head rolled on his shoulders and his eyes fluttered.

Then, he screamed.

It was a blood-curdling, agonizing sound that seemed to come from deep within him. Darry felt a very strange sensation run though him at the sound, almost like all the blood pumping through his veins just suddenly stopped for a moment. Soda's eyes only half opened as all the air raged out of his lungs, and Darry wasn't quite sure if he was actually conscious or not. Then, as quickly as it had started, it stopped and Soda went slack again, falling limp.

"Take him. The ambulance is here."

Steve's words came to him slowly as if through a fog. Darry remembered taking Soda into his arms, but he didn't remember crossing the field or even how he got up out of the ditch with his seventeen year old brother cradled against his chest. The ambulance had pulled over to the side of the road by where they had left the car and the paramedics were just jumping down out of the vehicle.

"Please… please help him." The words came tumbling out of Darry's mouth seemingly of their own accord.

"Get a gurney!" someone called.

As it was rushed over to them, Darry went to place his broken brother down on the stretcher, but strangely he felt as if something was stuck on his shirt. He looked down, thinking something had gotten caught, only to find that amazingly, Soda's left hand was balled tightly in his blood stained t-shirt, gripping the fabric like a lifeline. Still leaning over the stretcher, Darry looked back up at Soda's face, but strangely he still appeared to be unconscious.

While Darry was still marveling about this, one of the paramedics reached for Soda's hand, seemingly intent on pulling it free of Darry's shirt. Before Darry could react though, Soda let out a low moan, his grip tightening. It was the first sign of life that he had seen from his brother since they had pulled him from the truck. The paramedic hesitated.

"Can I stay with him?" Darry asked, his voice hoarse.

The paramedic nodded. "Yes, you can ride in the ambulance with him. But we have to go now."

Somehow they managed to get him and Soda into the ambulance without having to break Soda's grip. As the ambulance took off, Darry was solely focused on his little brother, barely aware as the paramedics worked around him.

"You're a fighter, Soda," Darry murmured, leaning in close. He put a hand to Soda's hand, which was still gripping his t-shirt. "I know you are. Just hang in there. We're not ready to lose you yet."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Well? What did you think? Nine chapters later and I finally answered the big question! More explanation to come in the next chapter of how Soda actually ended up where he did. But in the meantime, please tell me what you think! Worth the wait?

Also, since I've been terrible about responding to reviews, I'd like to give special shout outs to Michelle Loves Chocolate 99, Pony-Edward-Lucas'Girl, FrankElza, Dal's Girl and Guest for reviewing the last chapter. I really appreciate it!


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** Hello everybody! I'm so sorry that it took me so long update. Between the holidays and now I'm getting ready to move, so things have been crazy. This serves as a bit of a filler chapter, just to get my mind back into this story. I hope you still like it though! After spending this entire story in Darry's I thought it'd be a little refreshing to get a look into the other boys' heads!

Just a bit of heads up for those who might be squeamish, the beginning part of this chapter gets a little graphic. If you've got a sensitive stomach, you might want to skip the fifth paragraph and just know that it's describing Soda's injuries from Steve's point of view.

Anyway, onward! Enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter Ten**

Steve watched numbly as the ambulance raced away down the street. He was still sitting partway in the mutilated truck, his legs hanging out the side. It wasn't surprising to him that Darry hadn't spared him a backwards glance after getting Soda out of that truck, leaving him behind probably without a second thought. He could only hope that he had left the keys in the car so that he wouldn't have to walk all the way to the hospital from here.

But he was grateful to be alone right now. He needed a moment to gather himself. So here he sat.

He had spent days trying to reason Sodapop's disappearance into something that was manageable, something that was going to be easier to deal with. And even as time kept passing, and logical explanations started becoming less logical, somehow he still held on to the hope that Soda would show back up with some sort of reasonable explanation for his disappearance. It was just easier to be in denial about how bad this situation really could be.

And now reality was hitting him like a ton of bricks.

He glanced back behind him and then immediately wished that he hadn't. The seat that Soda had been trapped in was stained with blood. A lot of blood. Suddenly, a vivid image of his best friend and how he had appeared just after he free him flashed through his mind's eye. There had been deep gashes in his legs from where the dashboard had pinned him. When Steve had shifted in order to move him, he had gotten a painfully good look at the gruesome sight, seeing the unmistakable white glint of bone deep within one of the wounds.

Steve quickly turned away and doubled over as the world spun around him. He took a couple deep breaths in an attempt to steady himself but it didn't help. The next thing he knew, he was stumbling around the front of the truck toward the tree line where he leaned over and heaved, the contents of his stomach burning up his throat and then spewing out to the ground at his feet.

He was sick for several minutes, heaving several times until his stomach was completely empty. When the spell finally passed, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he slowly straightened up, bracing himself on a nearby tree. He spit, trying to get the rancid taste of vomit out of his mouth, but it didn't help much. He stumbled away from the mess on the ground and leaned up against a tree before sliding to the ground and putting his head between his legs.

He wasn't sure how Soda was going to survive this. And if Soda didn't pull through, he wasn't sure how the rest of them were going to survive this.

The next thing he knew, he was walking, climbing back out of this godforsaken ditch. He spared a brief glance back at where the mangled truck still lay, thinking vaguely about how difficult it would probably be to fix. But he knew that he'd try. No matter how this turned out, he was going to do his damnedest to piece that hunk of junk truck back together, even if it meant gutting an entirely new truck in order to accomplish. That was one thing he had control over in this chaotic situation, he would fix that damn truck.

He turned and walked around to Two-Bit's car. He was relieved to find that the keys were in fact still hanging in the ignition and that Darry hadn't taken off with them in his pocket. He slid into the driver's seat and as he went to turn the key he realized his hands were shaking. He took a deep breath and he started up the car, listening carefully to the engine cough to life. It was an oddly comforting noise for the mechanic.

Then he took off.

* * *

"What's going on?" Ponyboy asked as he returned to the living room.

He could sense that something in the atmosphere had changed drastically before he even took stock of what was different in the room. He had heard the door slam a few times while he had been in the bathroom, but hadn't thought too much of it. But now the subdued atmosphere he had left just minutes before seemed electrified. Something had happened.

The first thing he noticed was that Steve was gone. The next thing he noticed was that Two-Bit wasn't on the couch where he had left him, but rather standing by the end table by the recliner and he was just hanging up the phone.

"C'mon, kid, we gotta go," Two-Bit said shortly, blatantly ignoring Pony's question.

"Wait, where are we going?" Pony asked, confused.

But Two-Bit was already heading out the door. Pony scrambled after him, pausing only long enough to shove his feet into his sneakers before he was hurrying out the door. He found Two-Bit hesitating on the front porch, looking at the empty street in front of their house with concern.

"Damn," he was muttering to himself, seemingly unaware that Pony had come out behind him. "Darry's got my car. Didn't think of that…"

Anger suddenly rushed through Pony. After everything that had happened, he refused to be treated like a child and kept in the dark. He grabbed Two-Bit's shoulder and in his friend's surprise he was able to pull him around to face him.

"Two-Bit," Pony said as firmly as he could. "Tell me what's going on."

Two-Bit shifted uncomfortably. "I dunno all the details, kid," he started slowly. "Darry wasn't exactly forthcomin' when he barged in here just now." Pony felt himself go cold. Somehow, he knew what was coming. "But it seems like Darry found Soda."

"What? How? Is he okay? Where's he been?" The words came rushing out of Pony's mouth, tripping over each other in his haste to have all his questions answered immediately.

"Like I said, I don't know the details," Two-Bit repeated, rubbing the back of his head. "All I know is Darry game burstin' in lookin' like he'd seen a ghost, grabbed Steve, told me to call an ambulance, and then left. We're supposed to meet him at the hospital."

"So… so he was sure?" Pony's head was spinning. He could hardly believe this was real, especially after the devastating false alarm they had endured the day before. "He was sure he found him?"

"Yeah," Two-Bit said flatly. "Judgin' by the look on his face… this is definitely the real deal this time."

"But, where did you send the ambulance?" Pony said. "We could go there, maybe we can help!" His voice inexplicably shot up an octave as they last couple words came tumbling out of his mouth.

Two-Bit was shaking his head though. "No," he said flatly. "We can't."

"But—"

"No!" Two-Bit said with so much force that Pony involuntarily took a step back. Two-Bit took a steadying breath before he continued. "Darry made me promise not to take you there. Said he'd beat me within an inch of my life if I did. And you know what? With that look in his eye, I believe him." He shook his head as if shaking himself out of a trance. "No. We'll meet him at the hospital just like he told us to. We just gotta find a way there."

"It'll take forever if we take the bus," Pony pointed out. He was shaken by how serious Two-Bit was all of a sudden. But he knew that if he didn't keep moving forward he would come to a complete stop, and that wouldn't do anyone any good.

Two-Bit checked his watch. "It's about lunch time. C'mon."

Pony had no idea what lunch had to do with anything, but he obediently followed as Two-Bit suddenly jumped down off of the porch and started hurrying across the front lawn.

 _Please, Soda,_ Pony silently begged. _Please be okay._ As he and Two-Bit ran down the street, Pony found his eyes straying skyward. He was no longer directing this thoughts at Soda as another thought passed through his head. _Please... watch over my brother._

* * *

Two-Bit had never been athletic by any stretch of the imagination. Sure he was good for tossing around the football a bit or throwing punches in a rumble. But running for an extended amount of time was definitely not in his skill set.

Even so, with the adrenaline now pumping through his veins, he found it within himself to run all the way from the Curtis house down to the Dingo. As he had predicted, there were already cars scattered in the parking lot, hungover Greasers looking for lunch. Two-Bit was already scanning for someone who owed him a favor.

"Shepard!" Pony gasped as he pointed across the lot. Clearly he had guessed Two-Bit's plan.

They both ran over to the familiar car. Tim was lounging in the drivers seat with one of his buddies, fast food wrappers scattered among them and the windows down in the warming weather. He looked up as Two-Bit and Pony ran up. He only looked mildly surprised at the sudden intrusion.

"What's up, Two-Bit, Ponyboy," Tim said lightly by way of greeting. He raised an eyebrow. "Whoa, Two-Bit. You might wanna sit down before you pass out."

Two-Bit was desperately gasping for air, so much so that he couldn't speak. Luckily, Pony was in much better shape than him, only seeming to be mildly out of breath.

"Tim, we need a ride," Pony said desperately.

Tim shrugged. "Sure, we're done here anyway. Hop in. Where you headin'?"

"To the hospital, downtown," Pony said as both he and Two-Bit jumped into the backseat. "Hurry."

Tim nodded, suddenly setting his jaw and looking serious as he straightened up and turned the ignition key. He glanced at the two of them in the rearview mirror. "I'm gonna take a wild stab in the dark and say you found Soda."

"Yeah, somethin' like that," Two-Bit mumbled, finally starting to breath normally again.

Thankfully, Tim wasn't the type to push an issue with questions. He simply accepted the vague answer as he pulled out of the parking lot and took off in the direction of the hospital. All the Greasers were fast drivers, but Tim Shepard was by far the most reckless, viewing things like red lights as mere suggestions. Normally, it wouldn't have bothered Two-Bit, but suddenly he found himself more aware of it.

" _Call an ambulance and send it to Route 66 between Norwood and Sheridan. Tell them there's been a car accident."_

Darry's words echoed through Two-Bit's head. He swallowed. He still didn't really understand exactly what had happened, how Darry had found Soda, why he had needed Steve to come with him, or how a car accident could cause a four-day disappearance. None of this was making much sense so far. And honestly, he didn't want to make sense of it right now. Chances are his imagination was going to be way worse than reality.

At least, he hoped so.

"We're here," came Tim's voice, shaking Two-Bit out of his trance.

Pony was out of the car immediately. Two-Bit was a little slower to get himself moving.

"Thanks, Tim," he said as he slid out of the car.

"Sure," Tim said, looking up at Two-Bit through the window. "Let me know what happens."

Two-Bit nodded. He turned to find that Pony was nowhere in sight. He cursed himself. He was supposed to be looking after the kid. This was no time to fall apart. He took a deep breath and hurried into the emergency room, hoping that Pony hadn't gotten too far.

Two-Bit immediately spotted Pony at the reception desk, feeling relieved that he hadn't disappeared somewhere into the hospital. That would have been difficult to explain to Darry.

"His name is Sodapop Curtis," Pony was saying insistently as Two-Bit approached. "He has to be here, my brother said he'd be here."

The nurse behind the desk was shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I can't find anyone here by that name."

"But—" Pony started.

Two-Bit put a hand on the kid's shoulder, cutting him off. "C'mon Pony," he said gently, though his voice seemed oddly strained. "We probably just got here before them. Let's just go sit down for a minute."

"We had to go pretty out of the way to get a ride," Pony pointed out as Two-Bit led him over to a wall lined with chairs. "What could have taken them so long?"

"I dunno, Pony," Two-Bit sighed. He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he collapsed into one of the chairs. It was difficult trying to keep up with all of Ponyboy's questioning, especially when he had no answers to give. "We'll just have to wait and see."

"But—"

" _Please_ , Ponyboy," Two-Bit implored. "I don't know any more than you do right now. Let's just wait and see, okay?"

Pony snapped his mouth shut, looking a little put off. But thankfully, he lapsed into silence, even if he wouldn't sit down and instead paced back and forth in front of Two-Bit. Two-Bit sighed. It wasn't ideal for his nerves, but it was better than the alternative right now.

It felt like an eternity had passed, when in actuality it had probably been only ten minutes or so. One second the waiting room was still and quiet. And in the next it exploded into action.

The doors at the far end of the room flew open with a loud bang, loud enough to stop Ponyboy in his tracks. Loud voices shouting frantic orders met them before they saw the stretcher being rushed in. The entire nursing staff was jumping into action as Pony and Two-Bit both went still, only able to stare at the scene.

His shirt had been torn open. There was a mask over his nose and mouth that was attached to a balloon-like object that one of the paramedics was squeezing every few seconds. His eyes were closed. His skin was unnaturally pale, more pale than either of them had ever seen a person, than either of them had thought was even physically possible. But there was no doubt in either of their minds.

It was Sodapop.

As quickly as he was rushed into the room, he was rushed through the room and then disappeared through some doors that lead deeper into the hospital.

"Should we follow?" came Pony's voice, sounding hollow.

But, as if drawn by some unknown force, Two-Bit's gaze wandered back to the door. And there stood Darry, still as a statue as he stared vacantly at the spot where his brother had just disappeared. He had appeared so suddenly in the spot that it was as it he were a ghost that had materialized out of thin air. He looked completely shell shocked. And more than that… his shirt and pants were covered in blood.

"Darry," Two-Bit gasped. He was on his feet and hurrying over to his friend. Even as he approached, Darry didn't move, still staring at the same spot. "Darry?" he asked slowly, unsurely. "Darry, you alright?"

Darry blinked, the first sign of life he had shown. Two-Bit was shocked to see that there were signs of tears in his eyes.

"He… he might not make it," Darry croaked. He spoke with a strangely mechanical tone. "His heart stopped in the ambulance. He's lost a lot of blood. He… he might not..."

For a moment, Two-Bit thought Darry was about to dissolve into tears. But he didn't. He just stood there, seemingly frozen in time.

Two-Bit took in a shuttering breath as he felt a hole opening up in the middle of his chest. He knew one thing without a doubt in his mind: if Sodapop didn't make it, it was going to destroy them all.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Author's Note:**_ Hello everyone! So sorry this is so incredibly late! It's has been a crazy couple months. I won't bore you with excuses, but I will say my brain is pretty fried right now. I tried very hard to find typos, but please excuse if I missed any. Don't forget to review and I'll do my best not to keep you waiting as long for the next chapter!

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven**

"Where's Steve?"

The question was like a bucket of ice water being dumped over Darry, yanking him violently back to his senses. He looked behind him, as if expecting Steve to stride in the door just behind him. But he didn't. And suddenly, he couldn't remember what had happened to Steve. After they had freed Soda form the truck everything had become a blur. Had he stranded Steve at the site of the crash?

"Um," Darry said slowly.

"Hey, come sit down," Two-Bit urged, looking up at him with concern.

"Yeah, but…" Darry started, though strangely he wasn't able to quite finish his thought.

He was supposed to take charge of the situation, he was supposed to take care of everyone around him, that was his job and purpose in life. So why was he having such a hard time completing a thought within his own head? Why wasn't he jumping into action?

"Darry?" came Ponyboy's voice, but oddly it sounded like it was coming to him from a great distance, even though he knew that his youngest brother was standing right next to him.

"I… I…" Darry stammered without any idea of what he was trying to say.

"He looks about ready to collapse," Two-Bit said. "Grab an arm."

He didn't resist as he was pulled along. He didn't resist as someone was pushing him to sit down, finding with a bit of surprise that there was a chair under him as he landed. He felt like he had been completely drained and all that was left was an empty shell.

"What's wrong with him?"

"It looks like he's in shock. It's common for people who witness things like this. We could give him something to help if you'd like."

"Darry?" Someone was snapping his fingers in front of his face. "You hear that? They'll drug you up like a hysterical woman if you want."

Darry blinked and Two-Bit's features slowly came into focus, as if emerging from a dense fog. He opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it again as he realized he didn't know what to say. He reached up and rubbed his eyes as he forcefully started to push away the fog that had clouded his head.

"Give him a minute," came Two-Bit's voice. "It looks like he's comin' back around."

"Darry?" A hand carefully touched his arm and Darry turned his head to see Ponyboy sitting next to him, looking up at him with big eyes. "Darry, are you okay?"

Darry took a deep breath, acutely aware of the air rushing in and then out of his lungs again. His youngest brother grounded him with his touch, causing the present to suddenly come into sharp focus for the first time since he pulled Sodapop out of the mangled truck.

"Yeah," Darry croaked. He cleared his throat, speaking more clearly. "Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry."

Pony nodded. Despite looking shook up by Darry's actions, there was a sense of stability in his gaze, something Darry had never seen before. It was clear that Pony was growing up, and doing so right before his eyes. "It's okay, Darry. You don't always have to be the strong one."

Darry swallowed thickly and then gave Pony an appreciative nod. "Thanks, Ponyboy." He thought for a moment. "We need to find a car so I can go look for Steve."

But Two-Bit was shaking his head. "No way. You're not goin' anywhere in your condition."

Darry gave him a confused look. "Condition?"

"You're barely holding it together, Darry," Two-Bit pointed out, though his tone held a surprising amount of gentleness in it. "You've done enough for today."

"But… what about Steve?" Darry said slowly.

"He'll turn up," Two-Bit assured him. "You left him the car, right?"

"Um," Darry hedged as he racked his brain, struggling to remember if he had given Steve the keys to the car at any point. He dug in his pockets for a minute, finding them empty. "I… I think so."

Two-Bit raised his eyebrows in surprise at that. "Well, in any case, hell or high water couldn't keep that guy from gettin' here. He'll be alright, you'll see."

Darry nodded, though it didn't help the guilt that had settled in his gut.

"Look…" Two-Bit went on carefully. "I know you're only holding on by a thread here, but we really gotta know, Darry. What the _hell_ happened?"

Darry sighed. It was a valid question. That didn't make it any easier to talk about though. "There… there must have been a car accident or somethin'," Darry murmured. He could feel Pony tense up next to him, but he couldn't look at him if he wanted to get through this. "I found the truck in a ditch off the road." He swallowed. "He had… he had hit a tree. The steering wheel had him… had him pinned." At that moment his throat closed and he couldn't speak any more.

They lapsed into silence. Darry was really grateful not to be questioned any more, even though he knew he hadn't given the best explanation of what had happened. He closed his eyes as he dropped his head into his hands. He just wanted to know how all this was going to turn out.

He honestly wasn't sure how much time had passed when he felt someone nudge him. He looked up and over at Two-Bit, who had taken a seat next to him, and saw that Two-Bit was looking intently at something across the room. Darry followed his gaze until it rested on the figure that stood in the doorway of the emergency room.

"Steve!" Ponyboy gasped as he looked over.

Indeed, Steve Randle stood in the doorway, looking ragged and a bit lost. His eyes snapped over to the group at the sound of Pony's voice and then immediately he was making his way over to them. Strangely, his hair was wet even though Darry was pretty sure it wasn't raining. He felt like he should get to his feet and properly greet the person that had freed Soda from that nightmare, but it appeared that his feet didn't want to cooperate with him. So he just watched as Steve approached them.

"I brought these for you," Steve said without preface as he handed a backpack over to Darry. He glanced over at Pony and Two-Bit. "Have you heard anything about him yet?"

Two-Bit shook his head. "Not since they took him back."

"What's this?" Darry asked belatedly after he stared down at the backpack.

Steve glanced over at Darry, raising an eyebrow as if surprised that Darry didn't know. "Clean clothes. I stopped by your house and got some for myself too." He ran a hand through his wet hair. "Had to jump into the shower real quick too in order to… get clean."

Darry took a minute to realize what Steve was saying. He glanced down at himself. There were dark stains on his t-shirt and jeans. The stains reached out to his arms where they turned a dark red color. It took another moment for it to really dawn on him.

He was covered in Soda's blood. Steve must have been too.

"Oh," he said flatly.

Steve stared at him, and then he looked over at Two-Bit. "He okay?" he asked.

Darry looked up at Steve in surprise. "Are you?" he asked. He couldn't understand how Steve could seem so normal after what he had seen. Why was this affecting him more than it seemed to be affecting Soda's best friend who had seen what he had seen.

And with that question it seemed that Steve's mask of indifference fell away, leaving behind the raw pain that he felt apparent on his face. He turned and plopped down into a chair next to Two-Bit as he sighed heavily. There was no need for him to answer the question. It was clear that while he had a task to accomplish, he had been able to put thoughts of what was actually happening out of his mind. But that wouldn't last now that he was here. Here in the hospital there was no avoiding the reality of the situation.

It was several minutes before Darry could will himself to his feet so that he could shuffle off to the bathroom. He changed his clothes mechanically and then just threw his dirty clothes in the trash. He didn't care that money was tight and that tossing out clothes like that is usually a mortal sin under his roof. He never wanted to see those clothes again. Then he spent a solid fifteen minutes basically giving himself a sponge bath in the sink, scrubbing Sodapop's dried blood off of his skin.

Once satisfied that he bore no more evidence of the horrific scene from the site of the accident, he headed back out to the waiting room to find that nothing had changed. He took his seat once more and the group sat silently. No words were left to be said. All that was left was to wait and see how this day was going to turn out.

"Family of Sodapop Curtis?"

Darry looked up vaguely at the doctor who had just entered the room and before he knew it, he was on his feet an approaching the man. He desperately wanted answers.

"Is he okay?" he asked immediately.

"You're Mr. Curtis' family?" the doctor asked.

"I'm his brother," Darry confirmed.

The doctor nodded as he looked at him sympathetically. "He's hanging in there," he said slowly. "But he is in very serious condition." Darry sucked in a breath, trying to decide if this was good news or not. "His injuries are very extensive and we had to rush him into surgery right away in order to stem the internal bleeding. However he's been very… unstable through the process."

"Can you fix him?" came Pony's small voice. Darry glanced over his shoulder to see that the others had come up behind him.

"We are going to do everything that we can," the doctor told him. He looked around at the group. "He's probably going to be in surgery for several hours. But I'm going to try and have someone come out and keep you updated as much as I can."

Darry nodded vaguely. "Thank you." Even to himself, it sounded like his voice came from some far off place.

He stood there and watched as the doctor walked away from them, disappearing through some double doors. They wouldn't know anything about Soda's condition for hours. He wasn't sure how he was going to cope until then.

"I've never needed a smoke so bad in my life," Two-Bit announced after a minute of standing around in silence. He pulled his pack of Kools out of his pocket and started tapping it against his other hand nervously. "And some fresh air." He glanced around at the rest of them. "Anyone else?"

"Yeah," Ponyboy agreed shortly.

"Steve?" Two-Bit prompted.

"I already went through half a pack on the way here," Steve said, waving them on. "I'll sit this one out."

Two-Bit only nodded vaguely, before he turned and led Pony back out of the emergency room.

Steve headed for the seats they had previously occupied and after watching him sit, Darry decided it was a good idea to join him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, but Darry couldn't help but notice how Steve fidgeted with his hands and shifted in his seat.

"How did we miss it?" Steve finally mumbled so quietly that Darry wasn't sure if he was talking to him or to himself. "How the hell did we not see it until today? We covered every inch of the city over the past couple days. How many times did we drive down that road while we were lookin' for him? Drove _right by him,_ for Christ's sake…" He let out a frustrated groan as he ran his hands over his face.

Darry sighed. "The truck was pretty well hidden," he said. "The green blended in with the trees and there was also a branch covering a lot of it that I pulled down before you got there."

Steve was quiet for a minute. Then he turned and looked over at Darry, meeting his eyes. "Then… how did you find him?"

Darry just stared at him for a minute. He hadn't really thought of that until this moment. He sighed and looked away, rubbing his hands together.

"I went back to where the drag races had been," he started. "I had a thought… what if he had one of his migraines? You know, the ones he used to get when he would overwork himself just after our parents passed?" Steve only nodded. "So I thought, maybe he was more concerned with getting away from all the bright headlights than with getting home. That thought got me going in the right direction. But…" He let his thought trail off for a moment. "I… I can't explain what happened next. Somehow I ended up on that road. Somehow I just… I just kind of stopped in just the right spot and got out of the car and looked in just the right direction."

" _Today, we recognize Christopher as the patron saint of travel and travelers. Many will pray to Saint Christopher for safe travels for them and for loved ones. Let us embrace that. Let us pray for God's children in their day to day travels and pray that those who travel will find their way back home."_

The words of the pastor suddenly came back to him in that moment. Had that really only been just this morning? It seemed like so much more time had passed.

Had it been some kind of divine intervention that had put Darry on the path to find his brother?

"You don't know what happened to Dally's pendant he used to wear, do you?" Darry asked suddenly. "The one with Saint Christopher on it?"

Steve gave him a blank look, obviously unable to make the connection as to why that mattered in this moment. "Um, no," he said slowly. "No idea."

Darry only nodded, not surprised. It was probably something that was lost like the rest of the things Dally had on him that final night.

"There's no way that happened on a deserted road, you know that right?" Steve suddenly said.

Darry raised an eyebrow at him, slow to make the connection at to what Steve was talking about. "What do you mean?"

"There's no way that Soda was traveling down a deserted road when he suddenly swerved off into a ditch for no reason," Steve said.

There was a pause. "I know," Darry said quietly.

"There were two sets of skid marks," Steve went on, glaring down at his hands.

"What?" Darry said, snapping his gaze over to Steve's form. This wasn't something he was expecting.

"I went back and looked after I went to your house to change," Steve said. "I found Soda's skid marks from when he was off the road. There was another set that looked about the same color so probably happened at the same time. It swerved from Soda's side of the road to the other side of the road." He paused. "I think someone crossed the center line and ran him off the road."

Darry blinked at that, finding that it felt like it was suddenly harder to breath. He hadn't put much thought into how Soda had ended up in that ditch. But as he absorbed what Steve was saying, he suddenly felt anger building within him, pushing out the numbness that had consumed him. If he ever found out that there was a person on this planet that was responsible for doing this to his brother, he would hunt them down and make sure they paid dearly.

The two of them lapsed into silence after that revelation. Two-Bit and Pony returned soon after that. The four didn't speak much as time passed, but as a group they became increasingly unsettled and restless. Smoke breaks became more numerous for all but Darry, to the point where Two-Bit eventually had to run out and acquire three new packs. Even though Darry didn't smoke, he found himself wandering out of the hospital with the others just to be doing something other than just sitting there as the hours passed by agonizingly slowly.

True to his word, the doctor sent a nurse out about every hour to update them, but the updates tended to be frustratingly vague. He was still unstable yet hanging in there and they were doing everything they could for him.

It was four hours since they had first seen the doctor when he finally appeared in the waiting room again. The man looked worn as the gang immediately approached him, and Darry tried desperately to read in his features what kind of news they were about to get, to no avail.

"How is he?" Darry asked, feeling his heart pounding in his chest so hard that he was sure everyone in the waiting room could hear it.

"We've done everything we can for him," the doctor said. "He had a serious cranial contusion with bruising on his brain, but a scan has shown that he still has some brain function, which is a good thing. He also has some pretty severe infections in his legs as well as fractures in both his femurs. He will need skin grafts to cover those lacerations eventually, but we will wait to see how his body heals first. His hip bone also suffered damage and severely fractured in two places. It's been set for now, but he will need several more surgeries in the future before he will be able to walk again. He also had some very concerning internal bleeding, probably caused by the initial crash, along with several broken ribs."

He focused on the stricken expressions of the boys around him before he continued. "I know this is all very daunting and a lot to take in. But he has been very lucky so far. The fact that he survived so long with these injuries is some kind of miracle. The surgery put a great strain on his body and his heart stopped twice, but both times we were able to revive him. He is still in very serious condition and his vitals are still very much below where I'd like to see them, but his body is fighting to stay alive. That is very significant at this point."

"So…" Darry choked out, trying desperately not to let the severity of the situation overwhelm him. He swallowed, trying to steady himself. "So, is he gonna be okay?"

"We don't know anything for sure yet," the doctor told him sympathetically. "He is being moved to the intensive care unit in order to be carefully monitored. These first twenty-four hours are going to be critical and we should know more about his chance of recovery after that time period. We are also going to put him on life support in order to take as much strain off of his body as possible. Right now, the biggest question will be if he will wake up. And at this point all we can do is wait and see."

"That's… that's it?" Darry asked, having a hard time wrapping his head around this concept. "There's isn't anything more we can do to help him?"

"Honestly, right now, it's all in your brother's hands," the doctor told him. "It's up to him what's going to happen now."

"Can we see him?" Pony asked.

The doctor looked over at him, seeming to take in Pony's small frame. "Visitors are extremely restricted in the ICU," he told him. "But we can take two at a time back to see him for short visits if you'd like."

Pony nodded. "I want to see him."

Instinctually, it seemed everyone's eyes went to Darry, assuming that he'd be the one to go with Ponyboy for the first visit. But honestly, Darry couldn't help but hesitate. He couldn't help but ask himself if he was really strong enough to see his little brother in such a broken state that he might not survive.

But then he looked down at Ponyboy, who was looking up him expectantly. He couldn't let Pony down. He would do this for him.

"I'll go too," he stated, hoping he sounded more sure than he felt.

"Come with me," the doctor told them.

Pony obeyed immediately while Darry followed behind. He was a little surprised to see Pony so assertive, but then again, he hadn't seen the gruesome sight that Darry had seen. He had only gotten a glimpse of Soda as he was rushed through the emergency room.

They reached the ICU a little too quickly for Darry's taste. But in all honestly, it didn't matter much because he knew that he would never really be prepared for this. So when they reached the door he didn't hesitate as he followed the doctor and Pony into the room.

There was a lot more activity going on in the intensive care unit than Darry thought there would be. Beds lined one wall, separated by thin curtains. Scanning the area quickly, Darry could see that about half the beds were occupied. Nurses moved continuously from one bed to another, checking the patients' vitals and scribbling down notes on charts. The antiseptic smell of the hospital only increased in this room, threatening to overwhelm him. Heart monitors beeped all around the room at different intervals, filling the room with a monotonous drone.

"He's just over here," the doctor indicated.

As they followed him, Darry searched ahead of them and immediately found where Soda lay. Admittedly, the scene wasn't as bad as he had been picturing. A blanket covered Soda's lower half and a hospital gown covered his torso. There was also a bandage that was wound around his head. He was still pale as a ghost and his eyes were closed as he lay completely still. There was some kind of unnatural look to him, even in sleep Soda had never been so still. The most troubling thing that Darry could see was a tube that went down Soda's throat, which was hooked up to a ventilator that was breathing for him. There was also a tube that went up his nose and several wires that snaked under his hospital gown, hooked up to a heart monitor that was beeping slowly and with a rhythm that sounded slightly off.

"Oh, Soda," Darry whispered as he approached the bed.

"Someone will be by in a few minutes to escort you out," the doctor told them gently. "We can only allow short visits in here."

The doctor must have walked away, but Darry didn't remember it. He was too focused on his brother who lay so broken in this hospital bed. What had Soda ever done to deserve this? What had their family ever done to deserve this?

He wasn't sure how long they stood there for, just taking in the scene. Time seemed to cease to exist in this room.

"Sodapop," Pony said softly, his voice wavering. Darry refocused to see that his youngest brother had taken a seat next to Soda's bed, one hand resting on the metal railing that barred the edges of the bed. Without even looking at him, Darry could tell that Pony was on the verge of tears. "I'm sorry you had to go through this alone. But we're here now. Please… please don't leave us. Please keep fighting."

Darry found that he was moving, crouching down next to Ponyboy. He placed one hand on Pony's knee for comfort and support, while he braced his other hand on the metal railing of Sodapop's bed. Pony took in a shuttering breath as he leaned toward Darry, resting his head on his shoulder.

Darry wanted to say something to Soda, but words failed him. So instead, he closed his eyes and he sent up a silent prayer to anyone who might be listening. They had gotten one miracle already that day when he had found Soda against all odds. And now, selfishly, he prayed for another.

 _Please… don't take my brother away from us._


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone! I'm still here! I feel like I've apologized for the lateness of my postings for this story at the beginning of every chapter for months now… but here we are again. Honestly, I was flying a little blind with this chapter, because while I had carefully planned and outlined most of this story, I hadn't planned much passed when they get Soda out of the truck. So please bear with me as I work through this part. I wrote three other versions of this chapter before scrapping them all and starting over… and I'm really hoping this version does what I'm trying to do justice.

I thank you all for your patience and I hope you like it! We are getting to the end here, probably only one or two more chapters left!

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve**

Three days.

Sodapop was confined to the Intensive Care Unit for over three incredibly long days.

Even though he was only allowed visitors for short periods of time, the four Greasers barely left the hospital over the course of those three days. They had claimed a corner of the waiting room as their own and camped out there day and night, waiting to hear news of Soda.

They weren't the only ones either. Tim Shepard as well as members of his gang stopped by a few times, looking for news. Also, other friends from their neighborhood made appearances. Obviously, news of what had happened had passed around the neighborhood quickly. Even some girls who frequented the gas station visited to deliver well wishes.

The ideas of work and school became foreign concepts to the four boys. Nothing outside of that hospital seemed to matter anymore. It was well into Tuesday, two days after finding Sodapop in that ditch, when it dawned on any of them that they should call in to work and school respectively since they wouldn't be showing up any time soon.

It was late in the afternoon on Tuesday the first time that Sodapop crashed. No one had been in the room with them at the time, but a doctor came out to inform them that Soda had been rushed back into surgery after his heart stopped. It was hours before they heard that he was out of surgery and stabilized again, though he was still in serious condition and no one was allowed in to see him that night.

Early the next morning, Soda was weaned off the ventilator and was breathing on his own. They all thought this was a good thing, a clear sign of Soda's improvement. But the doctor didn't appear as encouraged, rather delivering the news with a grim reminder that Soda was still in very serious condition.

This was understood better about an hour later when Darry and Pony were visiting their brother, and he crashed right in front them.

Flat lines and other emergencies were not at all uncommon in the ICU, so Darry hadn't even realized the wailing machine was Soda's at first. They had been watching Soda carefully, looking for some sign of change, and had seen none. It wasn't until the nurses were surrounding their brother's bed that either of them realized anything was wrong. He and Pony were pushed back away from their brother in the flurry of motion, people talking loudly and giving orders.

It had been especially jarring to see a doctor using a defibrillator on Soda, causing his body to jump up off the bed with each electric jolt. It was the longest few minutes of Darry's life, watching as the staff tried desperately to bring his brother back to life. He held Pony – who had buried his head into his chest, unable to watch – tightly, gasping for breath as tears flowed freely down his face, convinced he was about to watch his brother die.

He hadn't even realized when the heart monitor had started up again with a steady beeping noise. When the nurses started walking away, he was afraid at first that they had given up, before he realized that in fact Soda's heard had started beating again. He looked down at Ponyboy, who was shaking with tears still streaming down his face. They both had to be led out of the ICU and when Steve and Two-Bit saw the state that they were in, they were both convinced that Soda had died until Pony was able to find his voice and tell them what happened.

Darry wasn't proud of what he did next. It would haunt him for years to come. But that was the last time he went into the ICU. He couldn't do it any longer; he couldn't sit by and watch Soda go through all of this. He came up with flimsy excuses every time he was offered a visit to Soda, and he was pretty sure everyone knew what he was doing, but thankfully no one said anything.

Three days of watching Soda fight for his life was taking its toll on all of them.

They had become familiar with Soda's main doctor, a man name Dr. Reynolds. It was late into the night on the third day when he came out to talk to them, something he did usually twice a day.

"How's he doing?" Darry asked flatly as the doctor approached. He wasn't expecting much after everything that had happened.

"I have good news," Dr. Reynolds said with a small smile. Darry could barely comprehend what those words meant, looking at the doctor blankly. "We've seen great improvements in his cognitive functions over the past couple hours. We are getting ready to move him out of the ICU and are very hopeful that we will see him begin to regain consciousness over the next couple hours."

"What?!" The exclamation came staggered and at varied volumes from all four boys as they tried to absorb this information. Four boys who had been desperate for good news for the first two days Soda had been here, but had since had that hope violently torn away from them.

Darry was suddenly on his feet without any memory of how he had gotten there. "But… but how?" he stuttered, taken completely off guard. There had been no improvement for three days; he couldn't understand what had changed.

"Everybody heals in their own time," Dr. Reynolds told him. "You should know that even if he does wake up the road ahead of him is still long. Waking up after being in a comatose state can be complicated. Simple things like speaking might not come back to him right away."

"But… but he's gonna be okay?" Darry asked, still struggling to get his mind around the sudden turn of events.

"I cannot completely rule out the possibility of future complications," the doctor hedged. "Really only time will tell. But as of right now his vitals are steadily improving and his body is beginning to respond to outside stimulus. All this is very good news at this point."

"Can we see him?" Darry stammered, suddenly very aware that he hadn't been in to see his brother all day, despite given several opportunities to visit him. Guilt gnawed at him.

"After we get him settled in his new room I will have someone bring you back," the doctor assured them. "It shouldn't take too long."

Darry nodded vaguely. "Thanks."

As the doctor walked away, all four Greasers stared after him blankly. It was so hard to believe that after everything that had happened, and after days of no improvement with his condition and nothing they could do for him but wait and see, that they had finally gotten some truly good news. There was hope within reach again. Hope that their family could be whole once again.

Hope that could be ripped away from them again.

It was so difficult to really comprehend how they should be feeling with all these ups and downs since Soda's original disappearance. The past week had taken a huge toll on all of them, to the point where when they were handed this bit of hope they all took is wearily, mindful of the fact that it could be snatched away again at any moment.

True to the doctor's word, about a half hour later a nurse came out looking for them. She led all four of them back through a series of hallways and the up two more floors. They were in a completely different part of the hospital now than the ICU. The farther away from the ICU they went, the more Darry felt weight being lifted off of his shoulders. They wouldn't have moved him so far away from the Intensive Care Unit if they were still concerned about his condition being unstable… right?

As they entered the hospital room, Darry was immediately aware of a difference from where Soda had spent the last three days. There was much less tension in here than had been in the ICU. Soda's was the only bed in the room and the only noise was the slow but steady beeping of his heart monitor. Even the lighting seemed much less harsh in this room.

All this was begging him to let hope in. But he had been hopeful before and it had hurt that much more when things had taken a bad turn.

Soda looked… the same. As they crowded into his room – the first time in three days that they had all been able to all visit him at once – it was clear they were all desperately looking for obvious signs of improvement. But the truth was, there were none. He still lay completely still in the hospital bed, pale as a ghost and hooked up to several machines that helped regulate all his bodily functions. He wasn't on the respirator anymore, but a clear tube wound its way around his face just under his nose, feeding him oxygen.

"They're sure he's gettin' better?" Steve asked skeptically as he took in the scene in front of him.

"They wouldn't have moved him here is he wasn't," Pony said slowly. But then he looked up at Darry, uncertainty in his eyes. "Right?"

Darry nodded, though he wasn't so sure that the gesture had any confidence in it. "Yeah, that's right," he said, aware that his voice hadn't sounded steady in days.

There were several minutes of the sound of chairs scrapping across the floor as they brought in a few more from the hallway and arranged them around the room. Darry couldn't help but glance over at Soda every so often, hoping to see some kind of reaction to the noise. But he lay completely still, with not so much as a twitch.

It wasn't as encouraging as Darry had dared to hope.

As they settled themselves into their seats, Darry couldn't help but feel himself begin to detach from the situation. He felt like they were being dragged through all this, with nothing that they could do to affect the outcome. How long could they go on like this?

As the night progressed, sleep slowly overtook each of the worn Greasers against their wills. Pony slept doubled over in his chair with his head resting on top of folded arms at the foot of Soda's bed. Steve and Two-Bit had both retired to the floor, sleeping sitting up and leaning up against the wall.

It was past one in the morning and Darry was the only one in the room still awake. It had been hours since Soda had been moved out of the ICU and he still had shown no signs of life. Darry couldn't help but wonder if the doctors had been wrong about his improvement, much like the false hope they had been given when he had been weaned off the ventilator.

There were nurses in and out several times an hour checking on him. For several hours it was the same two nurses taking turns, but there must have been a shift change because one that Darry didn't recognize entered the room. She was older than the other nurses he had seen, perhaps in her late thirties or early forties, with dark brown hair she had pinned up into a very severe bun on the back of her head. Still, he didn't think much of it. The nurses were usually all business on their rounds, checking Soda's vitals and making notes on his chart before moving on to their other patients. There had been a very similar routine in the ICU, and Darry had learned days ago that it was pointless to pose any questions to the nursing staff, as they would deflect having to answer by telling him that it was a question for Soda's doctor.

So after she was done scribbling on Soda's chart, Darry was surprised to see this particular nurse linger, looking over at his brother with sympathy. Then, furthering his surprised, she turned to him acknowledging him as no nurse had yet to do.

"Have you seen any sign of waking from him yet?" she asked, keeping her voice at an undertone so as not to disturb the sleeping boys in the room.

Darry shook his head. "There's been no change."

The nurse looked at him for a minute and he shifted uncomfortably under the intensity of her gaze. She almost seemed to read something in him, something that Darry himself hadn't been able to decipher.

"Have patience," she said gently. "After how long he has been unconscious, it'll take him some time to find his way back, even as his body is healing. Things will come back to him slowly. He might hold your hand but won't open his eyes. Or will open his eyes but won't be able to speak yet. Do not be discouraged… your brother is strong and in time he will come back to you."

Darry could only stare for a moment, in awe of how easily this woman he had never met before was able to read all his fears and doubts in him just by looking at him.

The woman smiled knowingly when Darry didn't respond. "I was here when he was first brought in," she told him. "I saw him before he went into surgery and I was in the ICU on and off for the first forty-eight hours he was there. He's come back from what most of us who have been here for a while know to be practically a lost cause. It's hard to tell by looking at him, but the improvements his vitals have made since he got here are incredible. We started calling him the miracle boy over in the ICU. I asked to be transferred over to this wing for the night so that I could check up on him." She looked back down at his chart. "He's shown so much improvement in his vitals, it's hard to believe how bad off he was when he got here not even four days ago. Honestly, not many people would have made it this far, all things considered. And I'll tell you this; he hasn't come this far just to give up now. Trust me. Just give him time and don't give up hope."

Darry nodded mechanically. "Thank you," he croaked, unable to think of anything else to say in his shock.

"One thing I truly believe after all my years of working here," she went on, "is that on some level, coma patients can hear you. Speaking to him might help him find his way back." She replaced the chart on the foot of the bed before walking over to Darry and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Have a little faith, honey. He'll get better, you'll see." And with one last kind smile, she turned and left.

Darry stared after the nurse for a good long while, so sleep deprived that he had to wonder if the exchange had actually happened at all, or if he had just imagined the whole thing. Finally he turned back to Soda, looking at his unconscious brother carefully. Could what she said really be true? Could his unconscious brother really hear him? It seemed hard to believe with his brother showing no signs of life for so long.

He reached out a hand and very carefully put it on top of his brother's hand, cupping it gently for fear of hurting him somehow. His skin was ice cold to the touch. Then he looked up at Soda, taking several long minutes before he could even figure out what to say.

"Hey, Pepsi Cola," Darry said softly, leaning in in hopes of being heard better. "I'm sorry I haven't been talkin' to you much these last couple days." He paused, looking down at the floor as he felt the familiar guilt gnawing at him. "I guess I'm not always as strong as everyone thinks I am." He looked over his little brother. "I'm not as strong as you. I don't know how you've hung in there all this time since the accident. I can't even imagine what you went through being trapped in that truck all that time." He had to stop and compose himself for a minute. "We've been falling apart without you, Soda," he went on hoarsely. "I don't know what we'd do without you little buddy. So please… _please_ … if you've got it in you, if you've got anything left in you at all, please keep fighting. Please find your way back to us."

He lapsed into silence, searching for any sign in Soda's face that he had heard him. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting. Some sort of miracle where Soda would hear his voice and suddenly wake up? No, that kind of thing only happened in those movies that Pony liked to watch. Soda's eyes remained closed. His heart monitor continued with it's slow and steady beeping.

Darry sighed heavily. He knew it had been too much to hope for such a sudden change just after speaking to him for a few minutes. But those few minutes seemed to have taken a lot out of him. He vowed to try again later as he leaned back in his seat, thinking that he could probably use some shuteye himself, as his eyelids were becoming heavy.

But as he went to move his hand from Soda's, he found that it didn't come as easily as he had expected. He looked down curiously; slow to understand what had happened. He looked down at his hand, seeing the way Soda's fingers wound deliberately and firmly up and around his palm with slow comprehension, his heart beginning to beat wildly in his chest as he realized what had happened, realized that this was exactly the kind of the sign of life that he had been hoping to see from his brother for days.

Soda was holding his hand.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone! Thank you so much for your patience! This is the final chapter of this story, so I hope it was worth the wait! I want to thank every single person who reviewed this story along the way, you guys are my favorite!

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen**

He remembered more than he would have liked to.

He remembered the splitting headache that he had gotten at the drag race, deciding to call it a night early even though he didn't have as much time to go out like this anymore. He remembered driving down that deserted road, feeling relieved to get away from all the bright lights. Then suddenly there were headlights coming right at him. He tried to swerve out of the way, but the car coming at him swerved with him, grazing the truck as it forced him off the road. Crunching metal. Blinding pain. And then an eerie silence.

He wasn't sure how long he had been trapped, but the worst part – even worse than the pain – was the silence. It was the silence that continually reminded him that no one was coming for him. It was the silence that tormented his mind, made him wonder if anyone was even looking for him.

He was constantly drifting in and out of consciousness while he had been trapped. There were times when he was lost within a haze of pain and fear. And then there were other times when he felt strangely awake and aware, trying to work out ways to free himself. He would yell until he was hoarse if he thought he heard any noise coming from up near the road. He would try and pull himself out from under the steering wheel which pinned him in place. He even got the glove compartment open at one point, hoping there'd be a tool or something he could use. But there was nothing.

He had been sure that he was going to die in that truck. Every time he felt himself drifting away he would prepare himself to never wake up again. He found himself contemplating an afterlife, wondering if he might at least get to see his parents again. All in all, after days of trying in vain to free himself, he eventually felt at peace with the idea that this could end soon and he wouldn't have to feel this pain anymore.

But it seemed that fate or life or perhaps even God above had other plans for Sodapop Curtis.

When he woke up in the hospital, he had very little idea of how he had gotten there. He had some hazy images of Darry and Steve in the truck, but he couldn't be sure that those hadn't been hallucinations. It wouldn't have been the first time he saw someone that wasn't actually there while he had been trapped and suffering from some pretty severe blood loss, not to mention the malnutrition and dehydration.

But none of that mattered when he opened his eyes and found his friends and family gathered around his hospital bed. Everything else melted away and the only thing that mattered was that he was no longer alone. It was strange, but when he woke up he found that he didn't have the energy to speak. But while that was a bit frightening, he revealed in being able to listen. He listened to his brothers' voices, his friends' voices, the doctor's and nurses' voices. He listened to the noises that the medical machines made around him, the sound of chairs scraping across the tile floor.

The hospital was never silent, and for that he was grateful.

Despite all the listening that he did, it was often difficult for him to really comprehend what was going on. And more than that, he found that for the first few days after he woke up he didn't particularly care to really know what was going on. He was out of that truck, he was safe and he was with his family. Anything beyond that just seemed so trivial. Despite his inability to speak, he was able to somehow convey the message that he felt comfort when he was able to hold on to someone. Perhaps they could see the panic in his eyes when they pulled away from him, but at all times someone would hold his hand, anchoring him in the present and assuring him that this was all real.

As days passed, it felt like haze in his head was beginning to slowly clear. He was starting to breathe easier, he could start to speak in small sentences, though sometimes he struggled with getting words out, even when he knew what he wanted to say. Still, he could tell he was improving by the relieved looks on the faces of Darry, Pony, Steve and Two-Bit.

"Hey, little buddy." Soda turned his head to see Darry entering the room. He had been disappointed when Darry had to return to work, but thankfully everyone else had worked out a way that there was always someone there with him. Right now, Steve and Two-Bit were sitting with him. Two-Bit had been babbling on about something that Soda could barely follow, but he was glad for the noise. "How are you feeling?"

Soda took a deep breath. He knew the doctor was encouraging him to speak more, but it was often difficult to find the will, especially since it was still difficult getting words out.

"T-tired," Soda stammered. It was becoming his usual answer to the often asked question, not only because it was how he usually felt but also because he had used the word so often that it was becoming one of the easier words to get out.

Darry gave him a skeptical look that told Soda that he suspected that Soda wasn't being as honest as he could be, but thankfully he didn't push the issue as he took a seat next to the bed. Soda was already reaching for him before Darry leaning forward to take his hand.

"I just got done talkin' to the doctor," Darry told him. Soda did his best to focus on Darry's words, wanting to understand what the doctor had told him. "He said that we might be able to take you home soon." Soda had very mixed feelings about this news. As much as he missed his home – he didn't even know how long it had been since he had been there – it was intimidating to think about going home when he couldn't even get out of bed. "The biggest thing he needs from you before that can happen though is for you to be able to eat and keep down solid food. Do you think you can try that today?"

Soda considered this for a moment before he carefully nodded. He knew that Darry really wanted to get him home; he couldn't even imagine what this hospital stay was costing them. He could at least try for Darry's sake. He still had a big question though.

"B-but…" he started, concentrating hard as he tried to form the words that he knew he wanted to say. "C-can I…" Some strange noises came out of the back of his throat and he felt frustrated. Why was it this difficult just to speak when he knew what he wanted to say? It was like certain words would just get lost on their way from his brain to his mouth. Finally he just raised his free hand and pointed down at his feet, hoping Darry would get the message.

He knew that there had been a lot of issues with his thighs and his hips, which had both been badly damaged in the crash. Over the course of the first couple days of him being awake, there had been a lot of poking and prodding of his legs, asking if he could feel things and asking if he could move his feet. The idea that he might not be able to walk was a scary one, and he didn't know how he could go home if he couldn't walk.

Darry frowned, clearly understanding what Soda was getting at. "Can you walk?" he supplied softly. Soda nodded. Darry sighed heavily. "Not yet. It's going to be a while before you'll be able to walk again. You need skin grafts on your thighs after you do some more healing and you may need more surgery on your hips. Then you'll have to go through a lot of physical therapy before you'll be able to walk again. It could be several months before we get to that point."

Soda squeezed his eyes shut at this news. It was difficult to process this idea.

A light touch on his cheek coaxed him to open his eyes. He looked up at Darry to find that his eyes were glistening as he fought for composure, obviously hating that he had to be the bearer of this news.

"I know it's hard to think about," he told Soda. "But it's going to be okay. We're going to get you through this. I promise you, Sodapop. We're all here for you and everything is going to be okay. You know why? Because you're still here with us. And we will never take that for granted."

Soda took in a shuddering breath. "Th-thank you," Soda mumbled thickly. "I k-knew you'd… you'd…" He took a deep breath and concentrating, wanting so badly to get this out. "I knew y-you'd never g-give up on m-me."

Darry smiled even as a tear streaked down his face. "You got that right, Pepsi-Cola."

* * *

"Darry?" Pony asked slowly. "What're we doin' here?"

Darry didn't answer immediately. They were in a car they had borrowed from Two-Bit, parked on the side of a street that was very clearly in Soc territory. These were houses that could probably fit his entire house in their living room. But he wasn't looking at the houses. Instead he was looking at the car that was parked in one particular driveway.

A brand new, bright red Chevrolet Camaro sat in the driveway. It hadn't been hard to track down; there weren't many of that model, even in this neighborhood. And word tended to spread fast whenever anybody got a fancy new car. The car probably hadn't been off the lot more than a couple months tops. The only blemish was a broken headlight alone with a scrape along the front left side of the car. Even from here Darry could see the green paint that had transferred in the crash.

This was the car that had run Soda off the road that night.

It had taken a lot of coaxing, but they had finally been able to get Soda to tell them what had happened that night. He told them about the car that had swerved across the centerline. Even though he had only gotten a glimpse of it, he was still able to clearly remember what kind of car it had been. It was second nature to him to be able to identify a car at a glance.

They had relayed this information to the police, who were conducting an investigation on what happened that night. But the Greasers had done some investigating of their own. It had taken Tim Shepard less than two days to find out which Soc had been bragging about his brand new, red Camaro just a week before Soda's disappearance.

" _The fuzz ain't gonna do shit, and you know it, Darry,"_ Tim had told him when he had given him the information about the car. _"Even if they do find 'em and get a confession, worst they're gonna do is a slap on the wrist. We gotta take care of our own. Say the word and I'll send my guys after 'em." He grinned mischievously. "Trust me, he won't walk before Soda does."_

It had been such a tempting offer. Soda had been in the hospital a grand total of three weeks trying to recover from the horror that he had endured. Didn't they deserve a little justice?

"Anna! Get back here!"

A little girl in pigtails had appeared from the house, running across the lawn as she laughed. She couldn't have been more than five or six years old. A teenage boy came calling out after her, probably not much more than sixteen.

"Anna, stay out of the street!" he called as the little girl was heading right for the road. Obediently, the kid turned and started heading for the teenager instead. The boy smiled as he scooped up what was assumedly his little sister. "You gotta be careful, Anna. You run into the street and you could get hurt. Promise me you won't go running into the street?"

"P'omise!" the little girl exclaimed, grinning in that carefree way that children had.

"John!" a harsh voice came from the house. A moment later, a man dressed in an expensive suit appeared in the doorway. At the sight of him, John was quickly putting the little girl down and pushing her behind him in a protective way that Darry knew quite well.

Darry narrowed his eyes as he watched what unfolded. The man – assumedly John's father – spoke in an angry undertone, so Darry couldn't hear what was being said. Even so, he could recognize the signs of a guilt-ridden lecture even at this distance. John kept trying to interject, but his father kept cutting him off, only getting angrier. Then the older man jabbed a finger toward the little girl who was cowering behind John's back. That seemed to set him off. John stepped forward, starting to yell something when suddenly his father smacked his open hand across his son's face. John stumbled backwards at the blow but his father seized the front of his shirt and yanked him back toward him. He said something in a low voice and then shoved him away, almost sending John tripping over his little sister.

In all honestly, had he been witnessing this scene in his own neighborhood, Darry would have been out of the car and heading over to help out the poor soul being pushed around by his parent. But this wasn't his neighborhood. He knew how to handle the parents of Greasers and hoods; he had no idea how to handle the parent of a Soc. So all he could do was sit and watch.

To his credit – and possibly a testament to how often this happened – as his father stormed back into the house, John collected himself well as he turned to his little sister.

"Hey Anna," he said with strained enthusiasm, "how 'bout some ice cream?"

"O-okay," the little girl mumbled, all the happiness from earlier drained away, clearly shaken by what she had witnessed.

He led her over to the car and helped her climb in. As he was circling around the front to get to the driver's side, he paused at the damaged front corner of the car. The corner that sported the distinctive green paint from Darry's truck. Darry watched carefully as something dark passed across this boy's features. It was like he was straining to remember something for the ump-teenth time and then was frustrated when he had no luck. And it was in that moment that Darry realized the truth.

He had no idea how that damage had happened.

Perhaps he was so drunk or high that he couldn't even remember the incident. Or perhaps a friend had borrowed his car that night and taken it for a joyride. Who knew? But what Darry did know was that it was not his place to pass judgment on this kid. He would pass off what he knew to the police, and then he would focus on his own family. Soda needed him more than ever right now, and going after this kid and risking getting thrown in jail just wasn't worth it.

Darry started up the car and began to pull off the curve.

"Things are rough all over, ain't they?" Pony said softly, a knowing look in his eyes.

"Yeah, I guess," Darry reluctantly agreed.

It took no time at all for Darry to drive the now familiar path to the hospital, the entirety of their little detour only adding about fifteen minutes to the usual drive. The closer they got to the hospital, the lighter the feeling in the car was. Today was a very important day for them. Today was the day that they would finally be bringing Sodapop home.

His recovery process had been a rough one so far and it wasn't over yet. He had been unconscious for four days after arriving at the hospital. Even after regaining consciousness though he still wasn't in any fit shape to go home. It had taken two more weeks of surgeries, recovery time and the beginnings of physical therapy to get him to a point where they could finally bring him home, though he would have to go back to the hospital in a couple weeks for skin grafts, plus there would be regular visits for more extensive physical therapy.

Even with all this hanging over their heads, it was a relief to see Soda finally beginning to heal from the horrible ordeal he had been through.

Darry and Pony immediately followed the now painfully familiar path up to Soda's hospital room. As they entered, Darry couldn't help but grin. Steve and Two-Bit had already helped Soda get dressed and got him out of bed and into his wheelchair. The idea that Soda was going to be confined to this wheelchair for several more weeks – or even several months – was a troubling thought. But he had to keep reminding himself that this could have turned out so much worse.

"Looks like you're ready to go," Darry laughed.

"More than…" Soda started and then paused. He took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "More than ready." Then he gave his big brother a small smile.

Darry grinned. Soda had been working a lot on his speech lately and had been making huge improvements. The rest of them had to learn quickly to be patient and not jump in and try to supply Soda with the words he was searching for unless he asked them to. They had tried to do that a few times in the beginning and he had gotten very upset with them. And there were few things that Darry found more heartbreaking than seeing his bedridden and battered brother getting worked up and upset with him. They had to learn to let him work it out for himself.

"Glory, it's gonna be good havin' you home," Pony said, grinning. "It ain't been the same without you."

Pony and Two-Bit quickly busied themselves with helping Soda gather up all their stuff that had made it's way to the hospital in the past couple weeks. Darry was about to help, but stopped as Steve placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, c'mere for a second," Steve said in an undertone, jerking his head for Darry to follow him.

Darry looked at him with confusion and concern, but followed him over to a more secluded corner of the room.

"What is it?" Darry said worriedly. "Is somethin' wrong?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Steve said quickly. "I was workin' in the truck earlier today." Tim Shepard and his guys had towed the truck out of the ditch about a week after they had found it and had dumped it in the back of the DX station where Steve worked. "Just kind tinkering around and starting to see what's going to need fixing."

"How bad is it?" Darry said, dreading the answer. As much as he didn't want to dwell on the truck too much, knowing that the truck's well being was less important than his brother's, it was still important for him to have a way to get to and from work.

"It ain't pretty, but we'll get it fixed," Steve said, waving off the concern. Clearly that wasn't what he wanted to talk about. "I was messing around on the driver's side, 'cause that'll need the most work, and on the floor I found this."

Darry had to stare at the item that he held up for a moment before he could really comprehend what it was. A silver chain was wound around his fingers, draping down and swaying slightly. Hanging down at the bottom of the chain was a silver oval. Upon closer inspection, a figure could be seen carved into the metal. Darry's eyes widened.

"What?" he gasped, looking at Steve in shock. "Is that Dally's St. Christopher pendant?"

"If it's not, it's something that bears a very strikin' resemblance," Steve pointed out lightly with a chuckle.

"But… how?" Darry said as he took the pendant to examine it.

Steve shrugged as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I dunno. It must have fell off while he was in your truck a some point."

"I can't even remember the last time he was in my truck," Darry insisted.

"I dunno what to tell you," Steve said. "But that's where I found it." He paused. "You were lookin' for it, right? You mentioned it a few weeks ago."

"Yeah I was just… wondering what happened to it," he said vaguely, still staring with amazement at the small trinket. "Thanks, Steve."

"Don't sweat it," Steve said with a shrug.

"Are we goin' or… or what?" came Sodapop's voice.

Darry couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, yeah, little buddy," he laughed as he tucked the pendant into his pocket and crossed the room. "Just hold on to your horses."

There would never be any clear answers to many questions that arose from the ordeal. It would never really be revealed why that car had crossed the centerline that night because the case would never be taken to court. After it became apparent that John's car was the one that was implicated in the accident, his parents settled out of court, covering all of Soda's hospital bills. With that weight off his shoulders, Darry didn't feel the need to pursue it any further. It would never be clear how Darry had found Soda that day. Or how Soda's body was able to survive such trauma for so long before he was able to get medical attention.

And the biggest mystery to Darry would always be how Dally's St. Christopher pendant had ended up in his truck when Dally never took off the pendant and, to his knowledge, hadn't been in Darry's truck for weeks before he was killed.

Perhaps someone was looking over them. Maybe it was some kind of sign of divine intervention. Or perhaps it was all just one coincidence after another. They may never really know the truth. What they did know was that against all odds, Sodapop had come out of this alive. And that alone was more than they ever could have hoped for that night when he didn't come home.

It would be months of rehabilitation before Soda could walk again. It would be longer until he could return to work. He would have side effects of his heart stopping – which had cut off oxygen to his brain for several minutes – for years to come. The most noticeable of this being that his speech would always take a little more concentration than it used to and he would forget words from time to time, but also his dexterity would never quite be what it used to. But all this was a small price to pay in order to have their brother back.

As Darry wheeled Soda out of that hospital, anything else that might have weighed down on his mind dissipated. His family was whole once again. And that was something he knew from experience to never take for granted.

* * *

 _It can get so lonely here  
Still I know I'm not alone  
Do we learn to face our fears,  
Before they carve our names in stone?_

 _Well I'm on my way_  
 _Yeah, I'm on my way_  
 _Well I'm on my way now_

 _Calling on St. Christopher_  
 _Gonna need some help tonight_

 _[Michael Logen – St. Christopher (On My Way)]_

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 **The End**

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 **Author's Note:** Thanks again for all the support you guys have given me throughout this story! I do have a few ideas for more Outsiders stories floating around, so keep an eye out!

Stay gold!


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